A Pleasant and Witty COMEDY: Called, A New Trick to Cheat the Devil.  
 
Written by R. D. Gent.  
LONDON: Printed by john Okes, for Humphrey Blunden, and are to be sold at his Shop in Cornhill, next to the Castle Tavern. 1639.   

To the Courteous Reader, and gentle peruser.  
TO make too long an explanation of the worth of the Author, or to commend the Work with Eloquent words, were but to delay the time, and dull thy expectation: It is a Comedy which hath been often acted, and so well approved; that I hope none will dislike of it now in the reading: But the Poem itself, being now an orphan, and wanting the Father which first begot it, craves a Patronage from thy gentle acceptance: my hopes are, it will prove no less pleasing to the Reader, than it hath formerly been to the Spectators; and so I leave it to thy charitable Censure.  
Farewell.   

Dramatis Persona.  

The young Lord Skales.  
Treatwell. His Man.  
Master Changeable.  
Master Slightall. A young Gentleman.  
Roger. His Men.  
Geoffrey. His Men.  
friar Bernard.  
friar John.  
Usurer.  
Scrivener.  
Host.  
Hostess.  
Mistress Changeable.  
Anne, her Daughter.  
Two Maids.  
Constable.  
Two Gentlemen.    

A New Trick to Cheat the Devil.  

Actus primus,  

Scaena prima.  Enter Slightall, and Mistress Anne. Slightall. 
I do protest.  An. 
Come, you flatter me.  Sl. 
May I perish then, if ever thought was  
Harboured in this breast,  
That did intend you harm;  
Your Father hath consented you shall be mine;  
Your Mother still holds off: but having yours,  
I care not who withstands;  
I am fixed your Servant and true Lover.  An. 
And I thine, in spite of Father, Mother, kinsfolks,  
Friends; thy Anne will ne'er forsake thee.  Sl. 
Then here my dearest, do I plight a vow,  
And swear by thy own virtuous grace and sweetness,  
By those entrammeled Rays, those star-like eyes  
Endymion blushes on; those Ruby lips,  
Where a red Sea of kisses is divided  
By rocks of pearl, by these joined hands, and all things  
That have tied my love to thine; I'll ne'er forsake thee.  An. 
Slightall, My vow is fixed, no more, my Father. Enter Changeable.  Chan. 
I have overheard all,  
My blessing on you both:  
Slightall, I love thee, and am glad thouhast sped;  
How I have pleaded for thee, Minion, you know.  An. 
Father I do, pray you for a while  
Conceal it from my Mother.  Chan. 
Fear not that wench, how I have laboured with her  
You know well, but no consent from her, it is impossible:  
What I have stored for thee high Heaven does know,  
But 'tis my love, which still continues to this wayward Girl  
Who never could have pleased her Father better  
Than in this mutual and conjoined assent. Ent. Mrs. Changable, & Mr. Treatwell.  
Further I would proceed, but see, my wife  
Consorted with a stranger.  Wi. 
Sir, here's a gentleman (Slightall so near?)  
Desires your conference (no device at all  
To shift him hence?) His business craves dispatch,  
And is of serious urgence; 'twould become  
Your modesty to spare us some few minutes,  
Since it no whit concerns you.  Chan. 
He shall stay, he's now ingraft a scion in our Family:  
Therefore what us concerns must needs touch him,  
Son, son, be constant to your place I charge you.  Wi. 
Son?  Chan. 
Remove for no man, now sir speak your mind.  Tre. 
What in a place so public?  Chan. 
Yes, even here.  Tre. 
A place more private would become my message,  
And give it gentle hearing.  Wi. 
Pray with draw, it comes from a great man.  Chan. 
Came it from on of the Guard, from Sir john Falstaff?  
Nay, Hercules himself; with bombast limbs  
It should have public audience.  Wi. 
Daughter, a word.  Chan. 
Now your big man, name him I pray.  Tre. 
From the young Lord Skales.  Chan. 
I cry you mercy, my honourable friend, I pray  
What service will't please him to command us?  Wi. 
Listen unto't, 'tis all for your preferment.  Sl. 
Fear and doubt perplex me equally.  Tre. 
The Lord my Master, to whom the fame of  
Your fair daughter's beauty hath thronged by infinite  
Tongues, hath in his breast  
Took such a strong impression, that he's pleased  
(So your consent and his may parallel)  
To make her his fair Bride.  Chan. 
How spoke you that?  Wi. 
You shall be a great Lady.  Chan. 
His fair Bride?  Wi. 
And take place of all Knights wives in the Shire.  Tre. 
Sir, I have full Commission from his mouth  
To treat so much; and what I undertake  
He hath engaged his honour to make good.  Wi. 
His honour? so you shall be honourable,  
Be every day Caroached; and ride in state.  An. 
A Lady, and Caroached?  Tre. 
Pray sir, your answer.  Chan. 
I wish his Lord ship had not sent so late,  
My word is passed unto this gentleman;  
Which to my power I will not change, nor break  
For any King or Keisar.  Wi. 
But you shall sir, and send his Lordship satisfaction  
Even to his best desire; tell him from me  
She shall attend his pleasure: you shall, Nan,  
Use him with all obsequious reverence,  
And gladly embrace his motion; Girl, you shall.  Chan. 
Without our approbation?  Wi. 
Forward sir, if you withstand the fortune of your Daughter  
In this tract of preferment without yours.  
Send him fair humble language, do my wench  
Accept his noble pleasure, and return him  
Courteous and loving thanks; think what it is  
To be attended, honoured, and advanced.  
My Lady Anne you shall.  An. 
My Lady Anne?  Wi. 
How poor and slightly Mistress Slightall sounds?  An. 
Good troth and so it doth.  Tre. 
But Donna Anne, Madonna, Madam, Lady,  
What breadth those Titles bear?  An. 
And so they do.  Wi. 
Mistress? thou shalt have such to be thy servants,  
And curtsy to thee when thou turn'st thy head;  
Bow at each nod, and make their Farthingales,  
At every word thou speak'st, to kiss their heels.  Sl. 
Well pled Grannam Eve.  Chan. 
What should I say? or how in equal  
Balance bear myself?  Wi. 
Footmen, Pages, and your gentlemen Ushers,  
Walk bare before you.  An. 
Bare before me? well.  Chan. 
For all the styles of honour in the World,  
I would not break my faith.  Wife 
Where I was wont to call thee baggage, Nan,  
And paltry Girl, I must not dare to speak to your  
Honour, without a Prologue of some half an hour long,  
Which must begin, an't please your Ladyship.  An. 
'Tis passing good an't please my Ladyship.  Chan. 
Son Slightall, for that Title I'll still fasten  
Upon thy name, advise me 'what shall we do?  Tre. 
methinks the motion might be fair and even,  
To make her mistress of her own free thoughts  
And choose where she best likes.  Wi. 
we'll stand to that, let it be put to her.  Chan. 
Son, what say you?  Sl. 
In her known love I am so confident,  
And of her faith so constantly assured,  
So void of all distrust; that I give back  
All interest, Title, claim, and Ceremony  
T'attend a second Censure. Mistress Changeable,  
You now are your own woman.  Wi. 
Madam, may it please you take a second choice?  Anne. 
Here's Gentry, and here's Honour, Mrs. or Madam.  
A single ambling Nag, or a caroche  
With four, four great Dutch Mares; a private Gentlewoman  
Or a great Lady, my worship, or my honour;  
To be a Wife to a Squire of low Degree,  
Or a Lord Baron: Gentry shall give place,  
And in a puffed style his Lordship I'll embrace.  
Thus, Slightall, I thy Title will outstrip,  
That all may say, there goes my Ladyship.  Wi. 
You have your answer Slightall, and good sir,  
Return this to my Lord.  Chan. 
Sir be my witness, I have no hand in this.  Exeunt all but Slightall. Sl. 
All come to this? shone the Sun bright i'th' morn  
To be ere Noon enveloped in this Cloud?  
To be forsook, despised, and disgraced  
All for a verbal Title? shall I avenge me  
On the proud Don, or this his changeable stuff?  
Whose name and disposition suit so well:  
Something I must, but in the interim  
Never to fix a constant thought again  
Upon that Moon-like sex: I'll weigh them all,  
Poor, rich, old, young, and middle Age alike;  
Make no distinction twixt the loose and chaste,  
The Matron and the wanton, women kind;  
For the so base inconstancy of one,  
Henceforth I'll form myself alike to all:  
Licentiousness shall be my Mistress now,  
Voluptuous pleasure, riot and excess  
My future study; I'll let loose desire  
And appetite unbridled; and the more  
Of that intemperate Sex I can corrupt  
Count it my greatest deed of Charity:  
And for thy sake, thou falsest fair; I vow  
Affection and all loyal Love t'abjure,  
Striving to make the clearest streams impure.   

Act. 1. Scaen. 2.  Enter Usurer, and his Scrivener. Usu. 
HOw goes the news o'th' Change?  Scri. 
Faith never worse, Merchants are wary,  
Tradesmen provident, Artificers turned frugal, and I think  
All the World will prove good husbands.  Usu. 
Better they, with half a number of that thrifty world  
Were three parts hanged; but so much for the City:  
What news in Holborn, Fleetstreet, and the Strand?  
In th'Ordinaries among Gallants, no young Heirs  
There to be snapped?  Scri. 
Th'have been so bit already  
With taking up Commodities of brown paper,  
Buttons past fashion, silks, and Satins,  
Babies, and Children's Fiddles, with like trash  
Took up at a dear rate, and sold for trifles  
That now scarce one will bite.  Usu. 
What a world's this? what will't grow to in th'end?  Scri. 
Faith sir Heaven knows,  
We Scriveners fare the worse by't.  Usu. 
How smart we then?  
We Money Masters, from whose bags you feed,  
And without whom your Pens would cast no Ink?  
Nor your wax take impression: none in chase?  Scri. 
Yes, sir, I have one sponge that could you squeeze him,  
Would yield good substance.  Scri. 
Is he well possessed?  Scri. 
Yes sir, he hath in Acres glebe and meadow,  
Upland, and Dale, in woods and arable;  
And though in name a private Gentleman,  
Yet hath he three fair Lordships, besides Sheep-walks,  
Parks, and other large Demesnes.  Usu. 
And will he fell?  Scri. 
I have dealt closely with a man of his  
To undermine him, one that soothes him up  
In all his riots, quarrels with his thrifty,  
Leads him to Game and guzzle in Vaulting houses,  
And places of bad fame.  Usu. 
An honest fellow, I'll warrant him;  
Can he do ought in this?  Scri. 
he's one to whom he trusts his whole Estate,  
And can do all things with him: In these Lands  
I promised him, if when they were in sail  
That I might bring his Chapman; a round sum,  
To which he seemed to listen.  Usu. 
'Twas well scented,  
Nor shalt thou lose by't: there's a share for thee;  
Acquaint me with the further Circumstance,  
In which I would be perfect. Enter Roger and Geoffrey, 2. serving-men.  Rog. 
I do not like this shuffling.  Gef. 
What Roger, all amort, methinks thouart off o'th' hooks?  Rog. 
Yes faith, and Henges too, I'm almost desperate,  
And care not how I am.  Gef. 
Faith I was never on a merrier pin,  
Nor my breast lighter hearted.  Rog. 
More Rogue thou.  Gef. 
Ha?  Rog. 
So, and if thou be'st not pleased with that,  
Thou must prepare for worse.  Gef. 
Thou wilt not swagger, Hodge?  Rog. 
Faith scarce with thee, thou art not worth my anger  Gef. 
Are we not of one House?  Rog. 
Yes, but I hope we ne'er shall be of one heart,  
My fellow no better than a Pander?  Gef. 
Pander?  Rog. 
Yes, would that were all, a Traitor to that House  
Where thou hadst thy first Bread, and almost thy being;  
Thy making I am sure, but ne'er that poison  
That swells so in thy bosom: My good old Master,  
Heaven rest his soul, uprising, and down lying,  
Kept twenty stout tall fellows, whom thy baseness  
Hath shrunk to two already; if this Riot  
To which thou still persuadest the young man hold,  
We shall be none, he nothing.  Gef. 
I could answer thee, but that I spy two Gentlemen,  
With whom I have business of my Masters.  Scri. 
That's the man.  Usu. 
And to me none more welcome.  Scri. 
Is it done?  Gef. 
All's plotted, we want money, sell we must,  
The rate we live at must have fresh supply;  
I'll give you the whole project.  Rog. 
Get you together, for a true-love knot  
Tied by the Devil, may his Dam unloose it,  
For I shall never: a Scrivener, an Usurer, and a Pimp,  
All joined in one, to ruin a young hopeful Gentleman.  
Now are they turning an old three men's Song,  
We be knaves all three, mount your notes aloft;  
For he that I named last will bear the burden;  
A load best fitting him, you'll find him one day  
A fellow of excellent carriage, he'll bear with you,  
Because he loves you so: So now all's plotted Exeunt all three.  
And there's a Lordship, or a Manor at least  
Gone at one lift: but what to do with money,  
Of which the least is like to come to him  
That hath most interest in't; some to the Pot,  
Part to the Pipe, not least share to the smock:  
And what remains to gaudify the back,  
Must fill the cheater's pocket; oh my old Master,  
Should thy soul see this, it would suffer for't,  
As my heart bleeds to think of't. Enter Slightall, & 2. Gentlemen.  Gen. 1. 
But did she break so with you?  Sl. 
Worse than a shopkeeper, that hath  
Run long behind hand.  Gen. 2. 
Slight you so?  Sl. 
S'foot, like a puff, a Feather; 'tis my Lord  
Must deal in wholesale with her Lady ware,  
And I am quite cashiered.  Gen. 1. 
Troth I commend you, that, so loving her,  
You do not take't to heart.  Sl. 
A heart? at heel; that poor worm, Love,  
Which some do style a God;  
I thus tread underfoot, stamp on his shaft,  
And trample on his Quiver: I must confess  
I once loved beyond thought, but when I saw  
My troth so baffled, and my faith despised;  
I set it at defiance, and I now  
Will be for all, or any.  Gen. 1. 
What, so general, I pray? is't possible  
One that hath loved sincerely, as you say  
You once did, should with such an easiness  
Change his affection?  Sl. 
I can teach thee do't.  Gen. 2. 
Good, prompt us that.  Sl. 
I love all fashions, features, forms and faces,  
Proportions, sexes, ages, and degrees,  
Discretions, wits, disposures, callings, places,  
Endowments, faculties, and all alike;  
Since one hath failed, I affect all as any, any as one.  Gen. 1. 
This is not possible.  Rog. 
I pity the young Monster.  Sl. 
For example, I'll teach thee how to love  
The loathed'st Creature; Marry I must turn Poetical.  Gen. 1. 
Prompt us that.  Sl. 
Nay I must be in rhyme too.  Gen. 2. 
All is pardoned.  Sl. 
Then, thus I do begin;  
Dissemble every fault in their Complexions.  
And take no notice of their imperfections:  
Andromeda was belly, sides, and back  
To Perseus seen, he did not term her black;  
Andromache was of too large a stature,  
One loving Hector praised her gifts of nature.  
To her whose skin was black as ebon was  
I have said ere now, Oh, 'tis a nutbrown Lass.  
Or if she looked asquint (as I am true  
So Venus looked) if she be bleak of hue;  
Pale, for the World, like Pallas; be she grown  
By jove, Minerva up and down.  
If she be tall, then for her height commend her,  
If she be lean, like envy term her slender.  
She that is puffed like Boreas in the cheek,  
Is but full fat, and Daphne she is like.  
She that is Dwarfish, name her light, and quick;  
And call her well set, this is grubbed thick.  Rog. 
Is this your Lesson? curse upon that Tutor  
That read you this damned Lesson.  Sl. 
This was Ovid; how approve you these his precepts?  Gen. 2. 
Excellent Tutor.  Rog. 
Or rather excellent Devil.  Sl. 
I could instruct you in a Thousand such,  
And never trouble Memory.  Rog. 
To what the pox, will this your practice bring you?  
In these days men do sell their Lands, their Fortunes,  
And their Estates to purchase them diseases.  Sl. 
Rog?  Rog. 
Sir.  Sl. 
Provide me a good lusty Lass tonight,  
I purpose to be merry.  Rog. 
Sir, not I.  Sl. 
I care not of what humour, face, or feature,  
So thou canst find one impudent enough;  
Search all the Allies, Spittle, or Pickt-hatch,  
Turnball, the Bank side, or the Minories,  
White Friars, St. Peter's Street, and Mutton Lane,  
So thou canst find one to disgrace her sex,  
She best shall please my palate,  Rog. 
He hath ill taste, that loves to feed on Carrion.  Sl. 
Get me likewise a noise of Fiddlers, and a supper too,  
Equal with that which old Vitellius made,  
When Art would exceed Nature; had I been he  
And had his rich exchequer, I would have fed  
On nothing but Earth's choicest rarities,  
Drunk nought but Pearl dissolved.  Rog. 
Pray sir a word:  
Can this world last ever? you sell, and sell,  
But when the money is spent, are you resolved  
To feed on Husks, and Acorns? I am plain,  
How many months did your old Fathers spend  
To purchase that you in few hours consume?  
Ha, doth this startle you? I am trusty Roger,  
And so you still shall find me: did he compass  
That competent Estate he left to you  
By Fiddlers whores, and Cheaters? look you big?  
Nay sir, I can affront you; where be now  
Those furnished Tables, whose long backs bid bend  
With Chines of Beef, and Chargers, feasting both  
Neighbours and strangers? are they  
rioted on lifts and whifflers?  Gen. 1. 
Name you any here?  Rog. 
If none be galled, you have no cause to wince,  
But if you be, then Figo.  Gen. 2. 
Here's none such.  Rog. 
Then do not interrupt me: Bawds and Whores,  
Panders and Pimps, did he keep such about him?  
I hope none here are touched; call him to mind, sir,  
And think upon his worthy memory,  
And how you lose yourself.  Sl. 
My servant's servant? slave, fetch me straight a Whore.  Rog. 
An Office fit for none but slaves, I am none;  
You had best bid these that are acquainted with them.  Sl. 
These are Gentlemen, my friends, and my Companions.  Rog. 
If they be Gentlemen, let them show them such,  
That is t'abhor those vices you are wrapped with.  Sl. 
I'll have Music, and the choicest Cates the City can  
Afford, and wine in abundance.  Rog. 
And pay all.  Sl. 
Yes, all and some.  Rog. 
But some must sure repent it, when all is gone and wasted  Sl. 
Pox upon you, we shall have you turn Puritan,  
Leave big mouthed Oaths to swear by yea and nay:  
thouart not for me, give me a man can roar,  
Show hacks upon his Sword, bristle, look big,  
Knows all the Postures of a true Duello;  
Give and retort the lie in his full nature:  
Can weigh and drink by measure all, or half  
To a rundle, or the circuit of a hair,  
Can weigh his drink as well as measure it,  
And,  
And without frowns or grumbling still attend Ent. Geffry  
On my free humours: Geoffrey, well returned, the news?  Gef. 
I have gone through sir.  Rog. 
So would my sword had thee.  Sl. 
We shall have money then?  Gef. 
A Thousand pounds brought in tonight.  Sl. 
On what conditions, Geoffrey?  Gef. 
Trifles sir, acknowledging a Statute, nothing else;  
'Tis finished in a moment.  Sl. 
And I'll do it; In th'interim go, bespeak us delicates  
The best and choicest, the dearer they shall prove  
The better they will taste; Wenches too, Geoffrey,  
Thou know'st my mind, thou seest our number.  Gef. 
Three sir.  Sl. 
Unless thyself wilt make a fourth with us,  
And bring (with thee for thine own appetite)  
Some courser stuff to keep thee Company,  
And sit at the buy Table.  Gef. 
It shall be done, I'll be your Mercury.  Sl. 
And Music Geoffrey.  Gef. 
If any thing to whet dull appetite,  
To heighten pleasure, and inflame delight  
Be this night wanting, ere Sun rise tomorrow  
Cashier me from your service.  Sl. 
Here's a fellow, whose industry doth merit double hire,  
Of a free Countenance and a light appetite,  
When this still frowning grim and surly sir,  
Has nothing in his face but melancholy,  
And in his tongue repining.  Rog. 
You'll one day find the difference.  Sl. 
Come Gentlemen, shall we to Cards,  
And spend an hour at Gleek?  Gen. 1. 
No better motion.  Rog. 
Game too, all will help to send a man a going.  Gen. 2. 
six penny Gleek?  Sl. 
Faith Twelve pence if you please.  Gen. 2. 
I am content.  Rog. 
And so is he too, to be gleeked of all.  Sl. 
What, will you please to attend us some few hours,  
In absence of your fellow?  Rog. 
Yes, so there be no whores in Company,  
But rather than feast where they shall domineer,  
And bold Rampalian like, swear and drink drunk,  
I'll feed on Cheese, and Onions; and in stead  
Of healthing, quench my thirst with frighted water.  Sl. 
Well sir, will you follow?  Rog. 
I will not haunt him as the Devil doth,  
But for once I will dog him. Exeunt all.    

Actus Secundus,  

Scene. 1.  Enter Changable, his Wife, and Anne. Chan. 
CRossed at these years?  Wi. 
Unless your wit were grey as well as your hairs;  
You grow in years, and so you should in wisdom.  Chan. 
Tax my wit? a woman too, to do't?  Wi. 
Did you never see a bare face teach a beard?  
It is no news in this so pregnant age.  Chan. 
An Age indeed, when smocks must read to britches;  
Go to wife, thou seek'st to make us two that should be one,  
Instead of me, thouart wedded to thy will;  
I fear we shall repent it.  Wi. 
Well, well, man.  Chan. 
But I say, ill, ill woman.  Wi. 
Why I pray?  
Because I seek the advancement of our house?  Chan. 
I would not build so many stories high  
On such a weak foundation, lest the Garret  
Reared on such thin supporters sink itself into the Cellar.  Wi. 
One of your gravity? I am ashamed, a Justice by  
Your place, and can appear so partial to your own;  
Whom should your providence devise to raise,  
If not your own? will you be twice a Child?  
And now, in this your second infancy,  
Not take care for your Cradle?  Chan. 
Thou art a shrew.  Wi. 
Why then I am no sheep.  Chan. 
An angry woman.  Wi. 
It should be then your care to see me better pleased.  An. 
I pray, good mother, nay, sir.  Chan. 
Sir me no sirs, I am no Knight nor Churchman,  
There is a third, make me not that by breaking of my faith.  Wi. 
Think what it is to have a great Lord call you  
Father in Law, and so your Daughter a great Lady.  Chan. 
So; I had rather see her a good Gentlewoman,  
Lawfully great in belly and in purse,  
Than swelled with poisoned Titles; it to me  
Appears no better than a Timpany,  
A grief not easily cured.  Wi. 
His Lordship will be here, give him good face,  
And courteous Language, or I'll make your board  
As loud as a perpetual gossip's feast,  
Or a discourse of Fishwives; and your Bed  
As if you were to lodge in Lothbury  
Where they turn brazen Candlesticks.  Chan. 
So, so.  Wi. 
So you are like to find it.  Chan. 
Gentle wife, have patience, and be quiet, I'll give way;  
I never hear thy tongue in this high Key,  
But I still think of the Tower Ordnance,  
Or of the peal of Chambers, that's still fired  
When my Lord Major takes Barge, I will do any thing,  
Good wife please thyself, and I am contented.  Wi. 
Why well then: Might not this time much better  
Have been spent, t' have taught your Daughter rudiments  
Of State? her postures, and decorums, fine French Congees,  
And quaint outlandish Garbs? one that hath been  
A Courtier in his youth, and brought nought thence?  
Fie, fie; I am ashamed of't.  An. 
Look to the Gate there; methought I heard one knock.  Wi. 
His Lordship sure?  An. 
And comes, it seems, to see my Ladyship;  
I feel state come upon me; speak good Mother,  
How shall I bear myself?  Wi. 
Why such at first, as you must be hereafter; like a Lady.  
Proud, but not too perverse; Coy, not disdainful;  
Strange, but yet not too straight; like one that would,  
Were she well wooed, but yet not to be won,  
Without some formal Courtship; had it been  
My case, my wench, when I was young like thee, Enter Lord Treatwell.  
I could have borne it bravely. See, he's come,  
Husband, your Duty; Girl, your modest blush,  
Mixed with a kind of strange, but loving welcome;  
Were I as young as once: Your Lordship Sir,  
Hath done my House much honour.  Lo. 
This the Mistress?  Tre. 
Your Mother sir, that must be.  Lo. 
I make bold,  
And like a rude intruder, press upon you  
Sudden, and unawares.  An. 
Is this your Lord?  Lo. 
Sir, I desire your more familiar love,  
Whom I shall study hereafter to respect  
According to your worth and gravity.  Chan. 
You crave his love whose service you Command.  An. 
I have seen a Thousand private Gentlemen  
Both better faced and featured.  Lo. 
Mrs. Anne, for so your name was given me.  An. 
Nay kiss better,  
Besides, he hath the mark of an ill liver,  
He hath not a Nose strong enough.  Wi. 
You see sir, what homely entertainment,  
And how course our poor House can afford you.  Lo. 
Were it base,  
But 'tis much better than I yet deserve,  
That face alone would make and dignify't;  
Your Welcome I approve, good sir, a word:  
Nay, Master Treatwell, you may witness it,  
We do not trade in secrets.  Both. 
At your service.  An. 
Mother, a word I pray.  Wi. 
What says my Child?  An. 
Which is his Lordship?  Wi. 
He that kissed you last.  An. 
Troth I felt no more honour from his lips  
Than from another man, nay scarce so much;  
For Slightall kisses better.  Wi. 
Minion, how?  An. 
I tell you as I find; his Lordship? good now  
Tell me, in what place of his body lies it?  
If in the face or foot, the Crown or Toe,  
The Body, arm, or leg, the back, or bosom,  
Without him, or within? I see no more  
In him than in another Gentleman.  Wi. 
Part of it lies in what he left behind,  
Observance, state, retinue, and attendance,  
Of which you must partake.  An. 
Lord, who'd have thought it?  
Would he had sent that part of his Lordship hither,  
And stayed himself behind; but where's his honour?  Wife 
Dost thou not see him there?  An. 
Him, but not it.  Wi. 
How cast thou fool? his Nobility lies in his blood,  An. 
'Tis that I fain would see.  Wi. 
His Blood?  An. 
Yes, if his Lordship live in that.  
Would you match me to a thing invisible?  
Where I bestow myself I'll see and feel,  
And choose to my own liking.  Wi. 
Art thou mad?  An. 
So you would make me; this is but a man,  
And I can find a man to my own liking and never trouble him.  Wi. 
This foolish baggage will cross all we would compass.  Chan. 
I am plain sir;  
I have not much to give, yet I would stretch  
My utmost, to my poor ability,  
To show myself a Father, what she wants  
In means she hath in Gentry; that my blood  
Can witness for her: something too beside  
Though not sufficient to ennoble her,  
Yet still to make her a good Gentlewoman,  
And that's all my ambition.  Lo. 
And that's all I can demand.  Tre. 
His Lordship asks no more.  Chan. 
Provided still, all be with her consent,  
For I'll force nothing, were't from a stranger,  
Much less from my Child.  Lo. 
There's no condition you have yet proposed  
But warrants grant, they are so reasonable.  An. 
Till now I had thought, your Lords, and Noble men  
Had been possessed of many worthier parts,  
Where meaner men are scanted; but I see  
All's one, or little difference.  Lo. 
Mistress Anne, it were superfluous to begin a Suit  
Which hath before been entered; and I know  
Made known to you ere this; I come not now  
For motion, but for answer: All those honours  
Titles, and Dignities conferred on me  
We likewise do communicate with you.  Wi. 
Which she is ready to accept.  An. 
Good mother, 'tis me, not you, whom this affair concerns:  
You gave your own free answer to my Father,  
So give me leave to do where I affect,  
The good or bad is mine; not touches you  
That are disposed already.  Chan. 
My good wench, I do commend thee for't.  Wi. 
Will you still prate?  Chan. 
No more wife, I have done.  Wi. 
Or I shall but begin. My Lord, proceed.  Lo. 
Court Ladies I have often seen and tried,  
Fair Country Damsels, Virgins of choice beauty,  
Bred from the City Scarlet, and 'mong these  
I might have made my choice, but all relinquished  
To place affection here; what comfort, Lady?  An. 
Faith little in that name:  
Title my Lord, is a cold Bedfellow,  
And many study style that marry cares;  
Can honour help in Childbirth? or Nobility  
Us privilege from throws?  Lo. 
Why no such thing.  An. 
What is this honour then?  Lo. 
Why Ceremony;  
The gift of Princes, and the pride of States,  
Regard in the Weal public, and employment,  
Respect, and duty.  Wi. 
Which from his pre-eminence  
Must by mere consequence redound to you.  An. 
You talk like an old woman, not like one  
That should make her first choice, as I must now;  
When I am grieved, can honour cure my heart?  
If discontent, can my Nobility  
Give ease unto my Corrosives? when your Lordship  
Is with your Trulls and Concubines abroad,  
Where is my loving Husband then at home  
To keep me warm at midnight?  Lo. 
I am he.  An. 
Sir, that's the thing I doubt.  Lo. 
Why, I entreat you?  An. 
You are a man?  Lo. 
I am so.  An. 
A Lord too?  Lo. 
It is confessed.  An. 
Could you not lend your Lordship to a friend,  
And keep the man yourself?  Lo. 
To whom I pray?  An. 
To a poor Gentleman, one Master Slightall,  
Who, had he but that slight Addition,  
I gladly would embrace.  Lo. 
You trifle with me.  An. 
Therefore to show me serious, Noble man,  
I take my leave thus gently.  Wi. 
That's no answer; Why Nan, why Minion, good your  
Lordship, take nought in ill part; a peevish thing,  
God wot, that wants a little tutoring.  Lo. 
Slightall quoth 'a? if she slight all as she hath slighted me,  
she'll fright hence all her Suitors.  Chan. 
This I told you.  Wi. 
Still will you prate? will't please your honour, take  
Such cheer as this our suddenness affords?  
And there's no question but ere dinner's done  
This Tempest will blow over.  Lo. 
I'll take your kindness,  
he's no good Soldier that at first repulse  
Will leave the Breach; belike she's fasting now,  
I'll take her in full stomach.  Wi. 
Please you enter?  
Attendance for his Lordship. Exeunt.   

Act. 2. Scaen. 2.  Enter Usurer, and Scrivener, with writings. Usu. 
'Tis signed, sealed, and delivered?  Scri. 
As fast as wax and witness can make good.  Usu. 
And to my use?  Scri. 
Yes, and as great an use as e'er you lent out money on.  Usu. 
Is there no hope he will redeem't at all?  Scri. 
Redeem this did you say? tush, had he more,  
More he would soon send after; why he's all expense and riot.  Usu. 
I shall love expense and riot while I live;  
Not in myself, I must confess, but in such prodigals  
By whom we Usurers profit.  Scri. 
He spends all.  Usu. 
So let him, what he hath;  
But this I'll look to safe as my life.  Scri. 
He minds nor cares for nothing.  Usu. 
For this he minds not, my care is took already.  Scri. 
Troth he's sinking, he's up to the neck already.  Usu. 
May he drown for him that holds him by the Chin.  Scri. 
Alas poor sheep, each Bramble shares his wool.  
Till he be fleeced quite.  Usu. 
What makes he then 'mongst Briers? this be his comfort,  
His flesh will show the better when he's shorn,  
he'll make sale for the Shambles.  Scri. 
Oh these Dice, Drabs, and Drink?  Vsu. 
Excellent sokers, brave pills to purge the purse:  
But for my part, I will take no such Physic.  Scri. 
What will you do, sir?  Vsu. 
Marry, first home, and safely lock up these,  
Then seek some other new come to his Lands,  
To make like prey on him.  Scri. 
I am your Scrivener, and sir, I hope  
You'll not forget my pains?  Usu. 
Forget thee? no, not whilst thy Parchment lasts:  
I do remember thee by thy shop, thy sign,  
Yes, thou hast Labels hanging at thy door;  
Thou writ'st a good fair hand, and hast in Horn,  
six several Seals with sundry strange inscripts  
All joined together; thee? not remember thee?  
I can call thee by thy name.  Scri. 
But sir, my money.  Vsu. 
Money from me, thy writings are all paid for,  
It came from Slightall's purse.  Scri. 
ay, but my Brokage?  Vsu. 
Brokage indeed hath some dependence still  
On Usury, and Usury on that,  
theyare Relatives; one is not called a Son  
That hath no Father, and no Father's he  
That hath no Son; yet money doth go hard.  Scri. 
Yet let me have my due.  Usu. 
Yes, give the Devil that,  
For he will have't at length; ha, let me see,  
Come, let us once be mad, we'll to the next Tavern,  
And there debate the business.  Scri. 
At your own charge?  Vsu. 
Yes, for this once, not use't.  Scri. 
A Gallon sir, betwixt us two?  Vsu. 
An usurer's Gallon, that's just half a pint,  
'Tis none of Slightall's measure, 'tis too great,  
And come, good Scrivener, write it in Record,  
That I am now thus liberal.  Scri. 
Sir, I shall. Exeunt.   

Act 2. Scaen. 3.  Enter Slightall, Roger, and Geoffrey. Sl. 
You have served me long, what have you got by me?  Gef. 
Good Wine, good Victuals, Liveries;  
And the countenance of a good Master.  Sl. 
And pray what's all this?  Gef. 
That's as your worship shall be pleased to call it.  Sl. 
Nay, name it you.  Rog. 
So please you sir, I shall;  
That which I think y'are brought to now yourself,  
Or within little of't.  Sl. 
And what's that?  Rog. 
Nothing.  Sl. 
Thy plains I commend, thee and thy wit,  
That canst give nothing name, such is my state;  
Yet out of this confused lump of nought,  
That which no man of sense can say it is,  
Or Title by the name of any thing,  
Something I have extracted, and reserved  
For you, for you my servants; take this Gold.  Gef. 
All this sir?  Sl. 
Why, all this alas is nothing.  Rog. 
What call you something then?  Sl. 
To me it is not, for now it is yours,  
And may it ever after something prove  
To you and your succession, as a Stock  
To thrive and prosper by; I only was,  
But am not now; however be you still,  
And may this give you Essence.  Rog. 
Pray keep mine,  
Your service sir is all the heritage that I expect from you.  Sl. 
Thou never wast one that did seek to husband my estate,  
Which I have vainly wasted; just, and honest,  
In all my loose designs didst counsel well,  
And still persuadest me to providence,  
That thrift of which I was uncapable,  
Employ it to thy own ends; had it been more,  
Greater had been thy stock.  Rog. 
I'll keep it sir, as Steward to your use, but  
Always ready to furnish your least wants.  Gef. 
And how for mine?  Sl. 
Though thou wast ever Pander to my lusts,  
And gav'st me Spurs to all my vanities,  
fed'st on my riots, and my loose excess,  
Encourag'st still to surfeits, prayd'st not for me  
But still prey'st on me Geoffrey; yet, because  
Thou once didst claim dependence on my love,  
And didst me some slight service; still report  
Thou hadst a bounteous Master; so farewell both.  Gef. 
If this he all, as where no more is left  
What more can be expected? this's my portion,  
I'll husband't for myself; he that gets this,  
Or part of this, must have more share in me  
Than either man or Master.  Sl. 
Adieu good fellows, report y'have left a clean  
Gentleman, without or means, or money.  Rog. 
'Tis my sorrow.  Gef. 
And my neglect; so I be stored myself,  
Which hand with him goes forward.  Sl. 
A woman; that inconstant Feminine Sex, Exit Rog. & Geffry.  
That changes humours oftener than the Moon  
wanes, or supplies his Orb: that moving Creature  
Hath been my quick subversion:  
Had she proved firm; for her I had husbanded  
All that I now have lavished; but too late,  
What shall I now do! travel? who shall furnish me?  
What comfort can there be to beg abroad?  
Or make myself a storm to foreign Nations,  
After I too much have been tossed at home?  
I'll prove my kindred; kindred he hath none  
That hath not in his purse to rank with them.  
My Kindred wasted, as I spent my means,  
Want makes me a mere stranger: than my friends,  
There's no such name for him whom need compels  
To such extremes as I am newly fall'n:  
Relief from them, such as in Cakes of Ice  
To him, whose Nerves and Arteries are shrunk up  
By bitter winter's fury: then behold,  
I here expose me to the fate, and force  
Of all disasters threaten me; I am ready  
With a pinched stomach, and cold Arctos breath,  
With a bare breast, armed with patience  
Against the sharpest storm, and thin necessity;  
T'encounter with the keen and piercing fangs  
Of what want can inflict on my poor carcase.  Enter Anne An. 
Let Father frown, or movingly entreat,  
My Mother chide, or threaten menaces,  
Rail till her Tongue, that yet was never tired,  
Cleave to her Roof in midst of her exclaims:  
Let my spruce Lord cog in his courtly terms,  
And woe me with a thousand vain protests;  
Not all my Father's hate, my Mother's fury,  
Nor all his Alphabet of styles and Names,  
Could they a Sheepskin fill, shall me divert  
From that which I have vowed, to seek him out  
And prostrate my first love.  Sl. 
The Devil, he  
My mind suggests when all my means else fail;  
That Bugbear will supply me.  An. 
Have I found thee?  Sl. 
I am not yet provided friend, not yet;  
Thou tak'st me on a sudden.  An. 
Do you not love me?  Sl. 
For a she-devil; but I meant not her,  
My business lies with him that's Lord and Captain  
Of all the Fiends and firebrands; haunt me not,  
Thou canst do me no pleasure.  An. 
Sure he's Mad?  Sl. 
There can be no more terror in his look  
Than in the face of my extreme distress:  
His Visage cannot be so horrible  
As my despair; what should I fear then, ha?  
An Usurer may wear Horns, a Scrivener too,  
Should I be more afraid of his then theirs?  
I know no reason for't.  An. 
Good sir, take comfort.  Sl. 
Man can no sooner think upon the Devil,  
But a woman is at's Elbow; trust me not  
I've no affairs with thee.  An. 
Leave those vain thoughts  
As Fantasies of a distracted brain;  
I come with sorrow, and repentant tears;  
To bring you back your own.  Sl. 
Not possible,  
That's all in Hucksters handling, and canst thou  
Bring it from thence? why the great Devil himself  
Can never do't; some is distributed  
'Mong Bawds, and Whores; here Panders have a part,  
And Cheaters there a share; Taverns, and Ordinaries:  
But the prime part the Usurer hath in's Chest,  
I would 'twere in his Belly: and the choice  
Of all I had, for which these were reserved,  
prized by me but as trivial ornaments  
T'adorn one Jewel, rated above them,  
Higher than gold above the basest dross,  
And that the Lord hath seized.  An. 
The Lord? what Lord?  Scri. 
Lord of this Soil; which I will ne'er repurchase  
After his so base sullying.  An. 
Oh, but sir.  Sl. 
What says my Donna Anne, my Lady Serpent  
Armed in her golden scales? What says Madona?  An. 
That I prefer thy basest poverty  
Before all glorious Titles; give me ear,  
And I'll redeem thy former injuries  
With ample satisfaction.  Sl. 
Hear me first;  
Back to your Lord, and if you want reparations,  
First fall into his hands.  An. 
It was my folly,  
My appetite too childish novelty,  
Of which I now crave pardon.  Sl. 
Oh woman, woman,  
Thou hast undone me, spent me to my Shirt,  
Nay beyond that, even almost to my soul;  
For I am circled in with black despair,  
And know not how to free me.  An. 
I can do't,  
And to that end I come; wants thy soul comfort?  
Behold, I bring you comfort: Is your state  
Decayed and wasted? see, I offer thee  
A second making, all my hopes and fortunes,  
I throw on thee; I am possessed of nothing  
Of which thou art not Lord.  Sl. 
Lord? there it goes;  
And get thee to him, for in rifling thee  
He hath robbed my brain of sense, my life of means,  
My soul of solace, and my days of rest;  
Henceforth I'll be a Madman, turn as Savage  
As thou to me was't brutish: I'll seek out  
Some fine familiar Devil, and with him  
Converse, when I have left man's company;  
I'll make myself companion with the Night,  
And Traffic with her servants like the Owl;  
I'll take my Lodging in some hollow Cave,  
Till I be grown so out of name and knowledge,  
That if I chance but to appear by day,  
Men, Beasts, and Birds shall all stand wondering at me;  
As at some prodigy, and point at thee  
For this my transformation.  An. 
jealousy, oh what a fury art thou?  Sl. 
Fury, where? kept it within my bosom I would cherish it,  
And hug't as one that I accounted most:  
Lay't in this hand I'd brandish't 'gainst my stars  
And dare them to encounter: lodged it here,  
Within my eyes, I would outstare the Devil,  
The Devil, I the Devil.  An. 
That foul fiend,  
Why do you name so oft? oh study better thoughts,  
And set him at defiance.  Sl. 
Canst not endure his name, yet com'st thyself  
To tempt me with his Satin? oh those eyes,  
That once appeared like to those glorious Tapers  
That spangle Heaven, show like black funerals  
The Sisters bear, that blast where ere they burn:  
Farewell my ruin, my decay and fall,  
And what sinister Fate soe'er I have.  
May thy false pride b'insculped upon my grave. Exit.  An. 
Curse on that pride, that such a hopeful Gentleman  
Should in his prime be lost by that and me;  
But who was cause? who first traduced me to't?  
My Mother, and that Lord; the sin be theirs:  
Offend they, and must scape due punishment?  
Then let me lose, what womankind best arms,  
My use of Tongue; if but this Pipe hold clear,  
I'll make both curse them taught me first to speak,  
And wish I from my Cradle had been dumb:  
My hate to him shall in his charge and cost,  
Redeem the love that I to this have lost. Exit.    

Actus Tertius,  

Scene. 1.  Enter old Friar Bernard, and young Friar john. Ber. 
NOw we have passed our more retired hours  
To holy uses as our vows compel;  
In zealous and Religious exercises,  
In Visitation of the weak and sick,  
To strengthen those that stagger with our prayers,  
And ghostly counsel; now night calls us home  
Unto our Cloister, there to spend the rest  
Of our late hours in thoughts contemplative,  
And sacred Meditations.  Io. 
Holy Father, I am afraid time hath prevented us,  
'Tis now past Eight, and, but I much mistake,  
I heard the warning of the Cloister Bell,  
Which tells us, if we reach not instantly  
W'are for this night excluded.  Ber. 
Mercy Heaven how swift time runs?  Io. 
W'are now at Islington,  
What hope have we to get to Crutched Friars  
Before the Gates be shut, and the Keys carried  
Up to the abbot's Chamber?  Ber. 
Thou sayst true, how shall we spend the night then?  Io. 
We'll knock here  
At the next sign, the good man I know well,  
Of honest conversation, of good life,  
And yet a boon companion; one that loves  
Good company, and to be merry with them.  
He, if he be at home, will bid us welcome:  
My Hostess too, a sweet and smooth-faced wench,  
Courteous and kind, and wondrous well beloved  
Of all her Neighbours; liberal to the Church,  
And much commended for her Charity.  
Let us not balk her house.  Ber. 
Knock good Friar john, and beg us a night's lodging.  Enter Woman. Wo. 
Who's that abroad so late?  Io. 
For Charity those that would be admitted.  Wo. 
Charity should be in bed at Midnight.  Ber. 
But Devotion should always wake;  
Where's the good man your Husband?  Wo. 
he's gone from home, and that's a reason too  
We shut up doors thus early; say, what are you?  Io. 
friar Bernard, and friar john.  Wo. 
Religious men, and keep unlawful hours?  Ber. 
'Tis no vain pleasure,  
Or evil purpose that hath kept us out,  
But Christian zeal to visit and confirm  
Them, for his sake to whom our lives are vowed;  
Grant us relief and harbour.  Wo. 
'Twere suspicious for me, but a lone woman, he abroad,  
To entertain men of your rank and place,  
Whose lusts have all been questioned, and have drawn  
Good women of best rumour and report,  
Into foul scandal; therefore pardon me,  
This night you get no entrance.  Ber. 
My good Dame,  
You see me aged, and far spent in years,  
Decrepit, and unfit for dalliance,  
And should my youthful Novice strive t' exceed  
His Lawful bounds, I am near to counsel him,  
But he was never guilty of such thoughts.  Io. 
'Las my kind Dame, not I.  Ber. 
Then grant us the least shelter, any place,  
By or remote, to keep us from the cold;  
Stable, or barn, if you be so provided,  
Or any out Room where's but hay, or straw  
To wrap us in till Morning.  Wo. 
Good, excuse me.  Io. 
Can you be so hard-hearted unto men  
Of our so known Devotion?  Ber. 
Grant us this, and you shall have the assistance of our prayers  
In all our Trentals, Masses, Dirges, Orisons,  
Your soul shall be remembered; but if we  
Should by your rude remorceless cruelty  
Miscarry in our persons, in this raw  
And so bleak cold; the price of our two lives  
Must be of you exacted.  Wo. 
Curse upon them,  
No night but this to trouble me in? being engaged  
To better fare by appointment.  Ber. 
Gentle Dame, for reverence of my years and gravity,  
And for my Covents Order; for my Name  
And my profession, grant Friar Bernard this  
Harbour from Frost and Snow.  Wo. 
Well Friar, you shall,  
But this provided, I will lock you up  
In a close Garret, and myself keep the Key  
To avoid suspicion; you shall have fresh straw,  
But other Bedding none, no fire nor Candle,  
Beer, Ale, nor any such commodity,  
Now in my husband's absence; so, pray enter,  
And this I do for Charity.  Ber. 
Now heaven's Benison fall on thy head, that two  
Religious men art so obsequious; gentle Novice, be  
Civil and much observant, 'tis a courtesy  
We scarce can find else where.  Io. 
My holy Father,  
I know it well; I am prescribed my limits,  
Which I am willing with all zeal t'observe;  
I would we knew our Lodging.  Ber. 
All necessities are ever to be pardoned, once, like Horses,  
Let's lodge in our own Litter; I commend  
The woman's modesty, that is so curious,  
Her Husband being from home, to avoid scandal,  
And men's base imputations.  Io. 
So do I,  
'Tis one of our best Dames; but see, she comes  
To give us entertainment Enter the Woman.  Wo. 
I have only a Cock-loft, please you gentle Friars,  
To make best use of that and some fresh straw,  
Best harbour that my husband's absence yields  
Y'are welcome to.  Ber. 
We entertain it gladly,  
And thank you my good Dame, I am for sleep,  
That's this my night's ambition.  Wo. 
Please you enter, but yet no further than I'll lock you in  
I'll keep the Key myself.  Io. 
At your best pleasure. Exeunt.  Enter Constable, with a Bottle of Wine, and Manchets. Con. 
My Watch is set, charge given, and all at peace,  
But by the burning of the Candle blue,  
Which I by chance espied through the lantern,  
And by the dropping of the Beadle's Nose,  
I smell a Frost; now to prevent this cold,  
To which I am subject, I have made my Deputy,  
Given up my staff and power into his hands;  
myself intending to spend all this night  
Here, at an honest Neighbours; some provision  
I have sent in, and some I have brought along,  
A cast of Manchets, and a Bottle to  
Of the best Wine in Turnball, which, they say  
All London cannot better: Silent all,  
None stirring near, I'll knock but softly for fear  
Of waking Neighbours.  Wo. 
whose's there?  Con. 
'Tis I.  Wo. 
Not Master Constable?  Con. 
The same fair love.  Wo. 
Have you disposed your Watch?  Con. 
Yes, at you further Corner.  Wo. 
Not too loud, mean time I softly will sneak down  
The Stairs, and softly let you in.  Con. 
Gramercy wench; the kindest loving Neighbour the  
Town yields, the Hamlet cannot match her; a smug Lass,  
And one that knows it too; I would not lose her  
For half my state in the Parish, while I'm in Office,  
She's safe as Mouse in Mill: Oh, are you come?  Wo. 
I was in fear you would have broke with me,  
But now I see y'are currant.  Con. 
Sweet a kiss, and hark in thine ear. friar john peeps out above.  Io. 
friar Bernard's fast, he snores and sleeps as  
Snug as any Pig in Peas-straw; but myself  
Cannot once close an eye, which makes me wonder  
That I am grow so wakeful.  Con. 
Here's to thy good fat Pullet that's within,  
Two fine Cheat Loaves were sent me from the Court,  
A Cup of Nipsitate brisk and neat;  
The Drawers call it Tickle-brain, 'twill do't,  
But is the Roast-meat ready?  Wo. 
Piping hot, I'll go fetch Salt and Trenchers.  Con. 
Quick, good Wench.  Io. 
Dream I? or is't substantial that I see?  
Was this your cunning Dame, to lock us up  
Like Prisoners, and afford us nought but straw  
To feather our nests withal? not allow us drink,  
Food, nor a Candle, lest we should fire the House,  
For that is her excuse; fire on you both,  
Have you these tricks? yet God a mercy cranny  
That I can spy all this. She brings in the Pullet.  Wo. 
Now let's be merry, but in any case  
Speak not too loud, lest we should wake the Friars.  Con. 
The Friars? what Friars?  Wo. 
Two Abbey Lubbers that are locked up fast,  
Of whom I could not rid me; but I think  
I have fitted them, they have neither light nor bed,  
Nor any other Comfort.  Con. 
Tush, no matter,  
What's that to us? Come sweet, cut up the Pullet,  
And after we'll to Bed.  Wo. 
Do you't, I am no Carver.  Io. 
Do you strain courtesies? had I it in fingering  
I'd make you both make but a Friday's feast;  
Oh how the steam perfumes my Nostrils.  Con. 
In faith it shall be thine.  Wo. 
If I begin, may I ne'er eat more.  Io. 
Here's a third would do't, knew he but how to come by't.  Con. 
Well, since you'll force me to't,  
I will make bold this once. One knocks at the door.  Wo. 
If that should be my Husband?  Con. 
Ha, what then?  Wo. 
You were shamed, I quite undone; he knocks again;  
Upon my life 'tis he.  Con. 
What shall become of me?  
Dost thou not think he'll spare an Officer?  
But fall on the king's Image?  Io. 
So soon started?  Hus. 
Why Nan, asleep or dead?  Wo. 
My husband's voice, who's there?  Con. 
Where, which way?  Wo. 
Creep beneath the Bed.  Hus. 
Why dost not open door?  Wo. 
Now to convey these victuals hence, and put out the fire,  
Lord Husband is it you? who looked for you so late?  
These shall into the Cupboard, if the smell  
Betray's not w'are safe.  Con. 
ay, if my swell betray me not.  Hus. 
Why dost not rise?  Wi. 
I have got such a cold, a cough withal,  
I thought I should have died; stay but a little  
Till I have cast my Petticoat about me,  
I'll quickly let you in; the fire's quite out,  
No sign of any Feast.  Hus. 
I'm almost starved, prithee make haste.  Wo. 
I am coming, good lie close, and if I can get him  
Once to bed, I have a trick to shift you.  Con. 
I do feel I had need of shift already.  Io. 
Here's brave juggling?  
For this night, Constable, I am your Watch;  
Oh but the smoking pullet. Enter Host, and Hostess.  Wo. 
Lord Husband that you'll venture whom so late,  
So many Knaves abroad?  Hus. 
I fear no robbing, and for my Carcase, I still bear  
About me to defend that, I've traveled hard today,  
And am very hungry prithee wife see what thou hast in the house?  Wo. 
What, talk of Victuals now? is this a time of night?  Io. 
I by my faith, for one that could come by't.  Hus. 
Talk not to me, something I must and will have.  Wo. 
Had I known  
But of your coming home I had provided,  
But now I pray to bed, this cold so troubles me.  Hus. 
Cold troubles me, lay me some Faggots on.  Wo. 
You see the fire's quite out.  Hus. 
I'll have't revived.  Wi. 
You're such another man?  Husb. 
See how she stirs?  Wo. 
Would house and all were fired,  
So some of us were out on't.  john. 
I for one.  Husb. 
I would have had some company, I had not  
Such an appetite to be merry for an hour this seven year;  
That I could tell where to call up some good fellow  
That I knew, we would not part these two hours.  friar john makes a noise in the Garret. Io. 
That's my Qu.  Hus. 
Now bless us wife, what noise is in the Garret?  Wo. 
No hurt man; nay, pray will you to bed?  Hus. 
Bed me no beds, I'll know the reason of't.  Wo. 
Two Friars shut from their Covents, wanting harbour,  
Begged lodging with such importunity  
They would not be denied; at length I pitied them,  
And yet to make them sure, I locked them fast  
Up in the Straw-loft, and see, here's the Key,  
theyare fast enough for starting.  Hus. 
Dost thou know them?  Wo. 
friar Bernard, and friar john.  Hus. 
friar Bernard, and friar john? th'only good Lads  
That I desired to meet with; I beshrew thee  
They had no better welcome; go, unlock,  
Entreat them hither, we will have one cup  
To th'health of all their Covent.  Wo. 
Call them up? what time shall we to bed then?  Hus. 
Time enough, early betimes, nay, quick Nan, friar john there?  
The bonniest Lad e'er wore portace in a string,  
Or mumbled Mass, or Matins; I but wished  
And see, 'tis come to pass; the other to,  
Though he be strict of life, yet will sometimes  
Be merry, if he like his company;  
But my kind honest baldpate, Friar Jack, Enter woman and Friars.  
I shall be glad to see him; welcome faith,  
With reverence, Father, to your gravity,  
Be not offended if Friar john and I  
Be, not exceeding compass, a little merry,  
And play with the Pot; fill some in.  Wo. 
To your bellies pots and all.  Ber. 
Excess, my Host, can purchase no excuse,  
But modest mirth, transgressing not his true  
And lawful bounds, is good and commendable;  
Now give us leave to bid you welcome home.  Hus. 
Thanks good Friar Bernard,  
Now as I live, would I had some good cheer,  
No better than I would pay for; but she tells me  
There's nothing to be compassed.  Io. 
The worse luck; and yet I smell a supper.  Wo. 
Not so much as a cantle of Cheese, or crust of bread,  
That can this night be come by (for your throats,  
I'll rather see you choked.)  Hus. 
But any fare that would content the stomach.  Io. 
Say you so? I'll try what I can do.  Wo. 
What a leering eye the Friar cast towards the Cupboard?  Io. 
Bid my Dame provide Cloth, Salt, and Trenchers.  Hus. 
But Friar john, how shall we come by meat?  Io. 
For such provision trust to my Art.  Ber. 
By Art, can that be done?  Io. 
Yes, by Art Magic.  Ber. 
Oh profane, and fearful!  
Art Magic! didst thou ever study that?  
It is against our Order.  Io. 
But not as I will order it, fear it not.  Hus. 
Can Friar john Conjure?  Io. 
For a Supper, or so, but never durst deal further;  
Will you furnish a Table fit for meat?  Hus. 
Nan, when I say?  Wo. 
We shall have now some fooling.  Ber. 
What doth my Novice mean?  Io. 
Good Father peace, no hurt to you nor me.  Hus. 
Nor any here?  Io. 
That's furnished with a stomach.  
Doemones, et Cacodoemones conjuro vos, surgite et venite.  
No man stir, is the Cloth laid, and all things fit for meat?  Wo. 
You see to please you, we can do any thing.  Io. 
Now let me see,  
What Christian Climate yields us the best bread?  
Oh, the best wheat's in Spain; what say you now  
To a couple of Cheat Loves baked in Madrid,  
And brought into this Chamber?  Hus. 
Would we might see them.  Io. 
All vostro commando, Asterothe, ill pane in hac camera presto.  
Oh, now 'tis done; mine Host, put but your hand  
Into that Corner and pull forth two Loaves.  Hus. 
Are you in earnest?  Io. 
But see what Art can do.  Wo. 
Pox on the Friar, have you these tricks?  Hus. 
Two fine and delicate Manchets.  Io. 
The best in Spain, or friar john much mistakes:  
Place them good mine Host, behind the Salt.  Hus. 
I shall.  Io. 
There's more behind.  Ber. 
Not possible in Art.  Io. 
Peace Father, more will be done anon;  
What Climate yields the best French Grape?  
My Spirit whispers Orleans grabe's the best,  
What says mine Host to a pure Cup of Orleans?  Hus. 
Faith I say, would I might see't.  Io. 
je vou pre Monsieur Asterothe, once more  
A Cup of Divine Claret; no, a Bottle of some two quarts,  
Gramercy, thou hast done't, mine Host, but cast your eye  
Upon that place, and you shall find it there.  Hus. 
Most admirable, see, here's a Bottle full.  Io. 
But taste mine Host, and try if it be right.  Wo. 
Your Devils take you; you know where's the best liquour.  Hus. 
Excellent stuff, I ne'er drank better claret.  Ber. 
How comes this?  Io. 
No hurt to you still, Father.  Hus. 
Bread and Drink? how shall we come by Meat?  Io. 
Let me see, there is a Midnight supper now served in  
At Prague in Germany, where the emperor's Court  
Lies for the most part, and seldom is he absent;  
Among all all other dainties, speak, what dish  
Desire you from the Table?  Hus. 
Any thing.  Io. 
What say you to a Pullet piping hot,  
Now standing on the Dresser?  Hus. 
Nothing better.  Wo. 
The Devil take all such smell-feasts.  Io. 
But once more I'll employ thee, Asterothe,  
For this night no more trouble thee. Veni, assist,  
& in hac re succurre; I smell the Pullet  
Smoking, and Sauce unto't.  Hus. 
ay, but where?  Io. 
Somewhere about this Room, who hath the Key  
Of that same Cupboard?  Hus. 
Marry Nan, my Wife.  Io. 
Call for it, good mine Host,  
You see I come near nothing, use fair play,  
Saw neither fire nor candle to provide this,  
Touched neither Lock nor Key within your house,  
But was asleep i'th' straw; unlock mine Host,  
See what the Cupboard yields.  Wo. 
A poison on thee, would it might prove so to thee,  
It was never provided for those chops.  Io. 
What find you there?  Hus. 
A hot fat Pullet, newly dressed and sauced.  
I never heard the like,  Ber. 
'Tis above wonder.  Io. 
You see what Art can do.  Ber. 
Tell me, Friar john?  Io. 
I'll talk with you anon, in the mean time  
Eat while 'tis hot, 't hath come a pretty journey,  
And marvel 'tis not cold.  Hus. 
Good wine, good bread, good victuals, stomach good,  
And all to meet together? nay fall to,  
And he be thanked that sent it.  Ber. 
This to me appears beyond imagination,  
Nay, gentle Hostess sit.  Io. 
Many provide good Cates that taste them not,  
Now blessing on their hearts.  Wo. 
But curse on thine, and on thy stomach too.  Hus. 
I pray Friar john, what spirit do you deal with?  Io. 
Aestroth, did you not hear me name him?  Hus. 
And what's he?  Io. 
One of the four great Spirits, that have Dominion  
o'er the four quarters of the Earth: good Dame,  
methinks you do not eat.  Wo. 
I could eat thee.  Hus. 
Could you not show your Devil for a need,  
To one that fain would see him?  Io. 
In what shape?  Hus. 
Why in his own.  Io. 
Oh 'tis too terrible, it would fright us all.  Hus. 
Yet would I see him.  Io. 
What, in his terrors? he would make you mad,  
Distracted and amazed, yet, good mine Host,  
To give you all content, I could be willing  
To show him but in some familiar shape,  
Such as should not affright you.  Hus. 
With all my heart.  Io. 
Have you no Neighbour whom you best affect, whose  
Shape he might assume t'appear less terrible?  Hus. 
Yes, twenty I could name.  Io. 
Soft, let me pause;  
It must be some that still wake at these hours,  
We have no power o'er sleepers; say I bring him  
In person of some Watchman?  Hus. 
No shape better.  Io. 
Or in the habit of your Constable?  Hus. 
Why he's my honest Gossip.  Io. 
Why then his.  Wo. 
More scurvy tricks Friar john, I may live to cry quittance with you.  Io. 
But mine Host, resolve me one thing; should great  
Asterothe appear to you in your gossip's shape,  
How would you deal with him?  Hus. 
Why as my friend, my Neighbour, and my Gossip.  Io. 
No such thing; you must imagine him what he appears,  
An evil spirit, to kick him, and defy him,  
As you would do the Devil, otherwise  
When you are late abroad, and we gone hence,  
He'll haunt your house hereafter.  Hus. 
Fear not that,  
If kicks and spurns will drive the Devil hence,  
I'll help to send him packing.  Io. 
I must tell you, 'tis merely for your own good,  
Appear Asteroth, Asteroth appear from underneath the bed  
In shape of Master Constable; do't when I say't, Not yet?  
Excruciabo te Asteroth, in jam jam jam apparebis.  
Now mine Host, either with zeal expel the Devil hence,  
Or have your house still haunted.  Hus. 
Will kicks do't?  
Let me alone to conjure him, pox on the Devil,  
He hath put me in a sweat.  Wo. 
I'll after him, and lest he should bear down part  
Of the house, I'll let him out of doors.  Hus. 
Yes, do good Nan; I think Friar john  
I have bombasted the Devil; thanks for our Supper,  
French wine, and Spanish Loaves, I never tasted meat  
That more contented me.  Ber. 
But how came this?  Io. 
I'll tell you by the way; no questions now:  
Now good mine Host we see the night quite spent  
And the bright day star rising in the East;  
We'll take our leaves; make much of our good Dame,  
And think no worse of your good Officer,  
Your Gossip and your Neighbour, in whose form  
Asteroth so late appeared.  Hus. 
Good night friar john, and holy Father Bernard.  Ber. 
Rather good morrow.  Io. 
Only commend us to my Dame your wife,  
And thank her for our Lodging. Exeunt   

Act. 3. Scaen. 2  Enter Lord Skales, Treatwell, Roger, and Geoffrey. Lo. 
My Rival so dejected?  Gef. 
'Tis most true, you never saw a man so strange debauched;  
He hath not only run out all his fortune,  
But even his senses; I had once my Lord,  
Some small dependence on him, but his riot  
Hath almost ruined me.  Lo. 
And what's thy Suit?  Gef. 
Your Lordship's Cloth and countenance.  Lo. 
Thou shalt have't  
See, Master Treatwell, that his name b'enrolled  
Among my other Servants; let my Steward  
receive such notice from you.  Tre. 
Sir, I shall.  Rog. 
Preferred already? may I live to see thee  
Advanced some few steps higher, to the Gallows.  Lo. 
What fellow's that?  Gef. 
One of my fellows once.  Lo. 
And will he serve?  Rog. 
Yes, one that he did never, nor I think ne'er will,  
Yet a Lord too.  Lo. 
wilt thou depend on me?  Rog. 
I thank you, no; were there no other Masters  
On the Earth, I am no man for you.  Lo. 
Thy reason friend?  Rog. 
Because the last I had, I lost by you, a Man, that  
Save his Title, bettered you, or any of your blood.  Gef. 
Brave my Lord?  Rog. 
Long you to have your Teeth picked? I'll find time  
To talk with you hereafter.  Tre. 
A bold fellow; give him scope, my Lord.  Rog. 
He was a Gentleman descended well,  
As ancient as yourself, as well endowed  
With all the gifts of Nature; better tutored,  
For he could write true Scholar, which few Lords  
In these days practise; not ambitious,  
Nor yet base thoughted, for he kept the mean,  
And aimed but at his equal; you in this  
Come short of; for you, less noble breasted,  
Have stooped to your inferior.  Lo. 
Suffer this?  Tre. 
Nay good my Lord have patience; hear him speak.  Rog. 
Think you, you could have bettered him in valour?  
He was too full of fire, witness his spirit,  
Most worthy of a Roman Character;  
That being oppressed, and only crossed in her,  
He lost himself in all things; and shall I  
Serve him, by whom a graft of his fair hope  
Is by his Whale-like Title swallowed up?  
And feed at his Board that hath famished him  
That was my Master? let such Sycophants do't,  
That to their Lords affections suit their service,  
Not to their fames and honours: that can fawn,  
Lie, cog, and flatter, Pimp, and pandarize,  
And so farewell, good fellow.  Lo. 
Is he such?  Rog. 
I speak sir of my fellow, he's now none  
For he attends your Lordship.  Tre. 
This fellow's bluntness  
Doth somewhat better than at first,  
Whom wilt thou follow now?  Rog. 
Him, to his Grave, or to his better fortunes;  
Bless your Lordship. Exit.  Tre. 
I do not think but under that rough brow  
Is lodged an honest heart; they are best servants  
Whom want, penurious need, and poverty  
Cannot fright from their Masters. Ent. Chan. and his Wife.  Lo. 
Oh Master Changeable, how is't with your Daughter?  Chan. 
Nought, nought.  Wi. 
Peace you, all will be well, I hope; yet peevish, but  
It will bring pliantness: 'tis coming on apace.  Ch. 
You hear that news of M. Slightall's frenzy, and his undoing?  Wi. 
And yet your wisdom would have matched your  
Daughter unto that spendthrift Beggar.  Lo. 
This his servant, since entertained by me hath told me all.  Gef. 
And nothing more than truth.  Chan. 
Use you your humours,  
And jest at his distress; but when I think  
What he hath been of late, what come to now,  
I cannot choose but sorrow; and the more  
When I Record the ground of his distress;  
But my soul's clear of all. Enter Anne.  An. 
You are a Noble Thief.  Lord. 
Ha?  An. 
You are a gentle fool.  Chan. 
How?  An. 
I am as cold as Ice, and you a scold.  Wi. 
Minion. how?  An. 
You are a Trencher friend.  Tre. 
That meant by me?  An. 
And thou a slave and Pander.  Gef. 
Speak it not, I'll not believe it Mistress.  An. 
This I'll prove.  Chan. 
Why Daughter, daughter?  Wi. 
Sure the girl's grown frantic.  An. 
Faith mother a mad wench, I thank my stars.  Wi. 
Star me no stars.  An. 
Why mother, can you scold?  Chan. 
Yes for a need.  Lo. 
But Mistress Changeable, why did you call me these?  An. 
Stand but in row, and as I am a woman  
I'll make all this good; you here, you there,  
And every one in order: First, in particular,  
And next in general I will go over you.  Lo. 
I pray you do.  An. 
A noble Thief, that was your Character,  
Some by the high way rob; some are Sea Thieves,  
We commonly call'em Pirates; some break houses,  
And others snap at stalls; some cunningly  
Dive into Pockets, whistlers, others lifts;  
Some are Poetical Thieves, and steal by wit,  
One from another plots, and projects, cheats,  
And decoys; but all these under Thieves,  
And steal but petty trash: but you more great,  
Under pretext of your Nobility,  
And countenance in Court, have from a Husband  
Stolen a contracted and a married Wife;  
For Contract upon Earth, in Heaven is marriage;  
And celebrate by Angels.  Chan. 
But why fool?  An. 
A gentle fool, such are your patient Husbands,  
That yield their wives the Breeches.  Wi. 
Is he such? how now bold housewife, baggage, peevish  
Thing, rude, disobedient, apish, and perverse,  
Irregular, hare brained, harsh and obstinate?  An. 
You see, she need not put me to my proof,  
Her tongue will do't itself.  Tre. 
But Trencher friend?  An. 
I pray your name? Tre. Treatwell.  An. 
Take but the two first letters from your name,  
I take't, 'tis Eat-well.  Gef. 
But all this Mistress, makes not me a Pander.  An. 
No, but when thou first was't base bawd to the riots  
Of thy first Master, thou mad'st thyself such.  
But now in general let me see;  
The Prince is not without his flatterer,  
The Noble man his Secretary,  
The Lawyer his attorney,  
The Justice his clerk,  
The physician his Apothecary,  
The Usurer his Scrivener,  
The Extortioner his Broker,  
Nor the Lady cannot be without her Gentleman Usher;  
Your citizen's Wife her journeyman,  
Your Country Wench her Sweetheart,  
Your Tobacco woman her Pipe-maker,  
And every Whore her Pander.  
Farewell Geoffrey; God be with you Gentlefolks. Exit.  Chan. 
Oh wife, wife, wife.  Lo. 
Nay good sir spare your tears,  
She hath hit us all alike; this her ingeniousness  
Adds to her beauty, not detracts at all;  
I love her ne'er the worse, nor any here  
Whom her discourse hath touched: 'tis witty frenzy,  
And no malicious canker; so I take it:  
Nay grieve not you good woman, whom ere long  
I hope to Title Mother; doubt it not, all shall be well.  Tre. 
But eat well.  Lo. 
Let not that stick in thy stomach, never couldst thou  
Light on a more fair and sweet Godmother,  
To give thee a name; I'll have all friends, let's in,  
And comfort the sad Gentleman, and after to supper.  Gef. 
Where I'll try how near of Kin I am to this  
Gentleman, and show myself an Eat-well. Exeunt.    

Actus Tertius,  

Scene. 1.  Enter Slightall Melancholy. Sl. 
A Pistol, Poniard, Poison, or a Cord,  
The least of these would do't; nay, my own want  
Had I the patience but to stay,  
The time would end me, for since Charity late is dead,  
How can beggars live? Death is the easiest  
Of any thing on Earth for man to compass;  
Almost no object but doth offer it:  
Fire, Water, not a Stone we stumble at;  
Our very meat and drink but surfeit of't,  
It would dispatch one quickly: I have read  
Of one choked with a fly; another drinking,  
Strangled with the berry of a bruised grape,  
Another with an hair; what's this life than  
We men do make so much of? if a Pin,  
A very Hair hath power to take it hence?  
Cursed fall of man, in whose first disobedience  
All things on Earth rebelled, and war with him:  
How many thousand things hath Fate ordained  
To stop weak nature's course? and among them,  
How few which can preserve it? which apprehension  
Makes me that now I more desire to live,  
The more my life's opposed: If there be Devils,  
As all Religion tells us, I desire  
To have converse and conference with some one  
The greatest fiend among them, for by him  
My Genius prompts me, either I shall raise  
My ruined hopes, revenge me on my foes,  
Or end my wretched days in this despair.  
I could turn Sorcerer, Witch, or any thing  
Might I but blast her beauty, brave that Lord;  
And show some power o'er my ingrateful friends;  
The Devil, ay, the Devil; what music's this? Music.  
Descends it from the Spheres?  
Hangs it in the Air?  
Or issues it from Hell? Come where it can  
I will attend the Novel.  Enter an Antic habited in Parchment Indentures, Bills, Bonds, Wax Seals, and Pen, and Inkhorns, on his breast writ, I am a Scrivener. Dances a strain, and stands right before him. 
Ha? What art thou? I am a Scrivener .The Devil thou art.  Enter dancing another strain, one written o'er his breast, 
I am a knave. Stands as the other.  
Why pointest thou to thy breast, I am a Knave?  
The Proverb were not true else, for it says, The devil's a Knave.  
Enter a third with this word ,I am a Prodigal.  
I am am a Prodigal? I was indeed, and thou dost well to  
Mock me; what fury sends Hell next?  
Enter a fourth with this ,I am a Beggar.  
I am a Beggar? yes, I am indeed,  
But how the Devil cam'st thou by my style.  
Enter a fifth with this ,I am a Puritan.  
I am a Puritan? one that will eat no Pork,  
Doth use to shut his shop on Saturdays,  
And open them on Sundays: A Familist;  
And one of the Arch limbs of Belzebub,  
A jewish Christian, and a Christian jew;  
Now fire on thy sweet soul.  
Enter a sixth with this ,I am a Whore.  
I am a Whore? yes, and a hot one too,  
And hadst a helping hand in my confusion:  
Now the same blessing on thee.  Enter a seventh with money Bags, and this Motto, 
I am an Usurer.  
I am an Usurer, Satan's eldest Son,  
And Heir to all his torments; thou hast swallowed  
Young heirs, and Hell must one day swallow thee.  
Enter an eighth with this ,I am a Devil.  
I am a Devil? good, 'tis the black Lad I so long wished to meet.  The Dance continued, in the conclusion whereof, &c. 
The Scrivener bears away the Knave; good Moral.  
The Prodigal the Beggar; ever so;  
The Familist the Strumpet, not amiss;  
Oh but the Usurer still the Devil and all,  
Whom I so fain would speak with; Belzebub,  
If thou hast any sufferance here on Earth,  
Or limited power o'er man, once more appear  
And offer me free language. Enter the Devil like a Gentleman, with glass eyes.  Di. 
Did you call?  Sl. 
Why, what art thou?  Di. 
The Devil Belzebub, whom thou so late so loud didst invocate  Sl. 
How cam'st thou by this shape of Gentleman?  Di. 
As if all habits, fashions, and attires  
Were not with me familiar? I sometimes  
Into a Lawyer can transform myself  
To delay Causes; then to a Divine,  
To devise new Sects, schisms, and Heresies:  
To a tailor for new fashions: to a Sempster,  
I was first Father for this yellow Sterch,  
Which did succeed the blue; to a Feather-maker  
For Gentlewoman's Fans, men's sprigs, and falls;  
Sometimes I am a Page, and daily attend  
Upon my Lords luxurious appetites:  
Then can I play the Master, Knight, and Lord,  
And then coin strange varieties of riots,  
Lusts, and excesses, never heard before.  
Indeed, what can I not?  Sl. 
be good thou canst not?  Di. 
It never was my study, and of all things I only except that.  Sl. 
Thou canst not pray?  Di. 
Yes, both on soul and body, where I am suffered.  Sl. 
Thou canst not Preach.  Di. 
How then came all those Pulpit Heresies  
That have with Christians, Christians set at odds?  
I read to that great Doctor Arius,  
That poisoned three parts of the Christian World;  
There's not a Sectary, nor a schismatic,  
To whom I am not Tutor.  Sl. 
Can I then task thee in nothing?  Di. 
No.  Sl. 
Thou canst not— stay?  
Thou canst not change affection, nor invert the passions of  
The soul; turn hate to love, and love to hate.  Di. 
Tush, that with ease I can.  Sl. 
And revenge wrongs?  Di. 
At pleasure.  Sl. 
One thing more, and I conclude;  
Thou canst not raise a man of desperate hopes  
To a full furnished palm; to pay his debts,  
And to give freely where he please to distribute?  Di. 
Am I not Titled Prince of all the World?  
And lies there that in this great Universe  
Excepted from my large Dominion?  
Am I not Mammon too, the god of gold,  
Sovereign of all exchequers, treasures, mints,  
And those rich Mines that set the World at odds?  
In search of which men hazard dangerous Seas,  
Expose them to diseases, and strange Climates,  
Above their natures: Gold? I am Father of it,  
And have it in abundance.  Sl. 
Then from can, I come to will; wilt thou, great  
Belzebub, so much of thy huge surplusage make mine  
As shall do all that I have here proposed?  Di. 
I will; but on condition.  Sl. 
Make thine own.  Di. 
That when thy wishes have attained effect,  
Thou art full handled, hast paid all thy debts,  
And nothing ow'st to any, I may then  
Most freely claim thy soul.  Sl. 
Come, strike me luck; it is a bargain:  
we shall need no witness.  Di. 
Thy conscience is a Thousand, that shall serve;  
Let me but have't confirmed beneath thy hand,  
And my exchequer's open.  Sl. 
'Tis confirmed; I see the Devil yet hath more honesty  
Then hath his Son, the Usurer; for to him  
A man may pawn his soul a thousand times  
Ere he can get a penny: but the Father's,  
Of a far more free nature.  Di. 
Come, withdraw, we'll  
Have't confirmed within. Exeunt.   

Act 4. Scaen. 2.  Enter Lord Skales, Treatwell, 2. Gentlemen, Geoffrey, and Mistress Changeable. Lo. 
But is your house so haunted?  Wo. 
Wondrously.  Lo. 
How long hath it been so?  Wo. 
Ten days, no more,  
Part of that time that Slightall hath been Mad,  
My daughter past her senses.  Gen. 1. 
The whole house?  Wo. 
No, only one by Chamber stands remote,  
And in that after Midnight there's a noise,  
That troubles the whole house of howlings, shrieks,  
Fireworks and Crackers, as if the great squib-maker  
Were new come from beyond Sea.  Gen. 2. 
Hath none seen the Vision?  Wo. 
Only my desperate Husband, who, one night,  
Would be so foolish venturous as lodge there,  
But did return so frighted, told such wonders,  
Still fright me to remember.  Tre. 
'Tis most strange: sure 'tis some vexed spirit that hath  
Deceased of late from out the house: who died last in that Chamber?  Wo. 
Heaven rest her soul, my mother.  Tre. 
Perhaps hers; who having hid some treasure in her  
Life time must, till that be discovered, walk of force,  
The like I have read in Legends.  Gen. 1. 
It hath been common, though not in these days  
Frequent, might I advise, I would seek out for some  
Religious man to exorcise the Spirit, and by that means  
To banish thence the vision.  Lo. 
Counselled well; there are in town 4. several sorts of Friars, white and black Friars, Grey Friars and crutched Friars.  Gen. 2. 
Good, you call to my remembrance  
Among them, one expert in the Art of Necromancy,  
His Name friar john, whom Islington hath  
Made famous through London.  Gef. 
Him I saw but now cross by the door.  Lo. 
Good Geoffrey find him out, and gently entreat him hither,  
But acquaint him not with the cause.  Gef. 
Sir I shall do't.  Tre. 
But hath he done such strange things?  Gen. 2. 
Wondrous sir; he can transshape his spirits, if fame  
Lie not, into what form he please, to imitate me,  
Or personate you; he could produce a Devil  
In shape of this good ancient Gentlewoman.  Wo. 
A Devil sir like me?  Gen. 2. 
H'hath done't in habit of a Constable,  
And may do't in a gentlewoman's; for his commons  
In the Friars he cares not, he can for a need  
Conjure his bread from Spain, from France his wine,  
His diet from the utmost of the Earth,  
Thus hath his fame given out.  Gen. 1. 
Would we might see him to make proof of his cunning.  Enter Changeable, and his daughter Anne. Chan. 
And as I told thee Nan, be swayed by me,  
I'll make him thine, employ my industry,  
Counsel and pains, to wean him by degrees  
From his wild course of desperate Melancholy:  
I'll seek him out, persuade him, lay thy love  
As open as the midday: hope in me  
And doubt not to prevail.  An. 
Sir, I am yours.  Ch. 
Thou knowest he loves me; I was still his friend,  
And friend with friend what cannot he perform?  
Make thyself mine, I'll cross thy Mother's workings,  
And fool that Lords attempts; only be you of a more  
Temperate humour, and more stayed, observing but what I  
Shall project for you, and doubt not my performance.  An. 
You in all things  
Have proved yourself a Father: I'll henceforth  
Strive to express a Daughter.  Ch. 
Then enough.  Wo. 
Here's now my Husband, he can speak it all.  Lo. 
But ere I question that, of you, fair Mistress,  
Let me be first resolved; is your Brain yet  
In a more settled temper?  An. 
Sir, it is; methinks I am new wakened from a  
Dream, in which I long have slumbering lost myself.  Wo. 
And now art found.  An. 
I am, thank Heaven, and my good  
Father's counsel and advice.  Chan. 
I held it wife, a deed of charity, & did it for the Lords sake.  An. 
Sir, henceforth I shall observe you better.  Lo. 
You now have wreathed me with a Crown of hopes.  Wo. 
Made me again thy Mother, and this work,  
Your ever patient and obedient wife.  Chan. 
Marry Heaven continue it wife, 'tis but need;  
In conscience thou hast been froward long enough.  Tre. 
These things so well succeeding, pray resolve us  
In what form doth this Devil haunt your house.  Chan. 
A woman's sure.  Tre. 
So I told you, sure your Mothers.  Chan. 
Troth she was somewhat shrewish like my wife,  
But yet I think not hers.  Tre. 
Your reason sir?  Chan. 
This apparition was the full portrait of a young beauteous Lady.  Gen. 1. 
On my life Acadna then.  Lo. 
Acadna? what's Acadna?  Gen. 1. 
A harmless Spirit fashioned from the Air,  
And yet assuming substance, shape and form,  
That where she loves, doth all the Offices  
Of a fair Lady: can supply with gold.  Gen. 2. 
And all things to man useful.  Chan 
So I have heard; but this cannot be she,  
For this had with her beauty so much terror,  
So much affright and horror in her looks,  
Such a confused noise, with hellish sounds  
Able to drive the senses retrograde;  
Turn reason into madness, and invert  
Capacity to fury; that, I vow  
I would not to be heir of all the World  
Endure like night again. Enter Geoffrey & friar john.  Gen. 2. 
Here comes the Friar, the man can best instruct us.  Io. 
Hail Gentlemen, this man that stands at Livery  
And saith he doth belong to a great Lord.  
Hath partly by entreats, part by command,  
enforced me from my meditations back  
To know his Lordship's pleasure.  Lo. 
Welcome friar, 'tis told us thou canst exorcise a spirit,  
We have employment for thee.  Io. 
Expect you such things from religious men,  
And of our holy Order?  Gen. 2. 
Come, we know you are an Artist in that hidden skill,  
And have commerce with mighty Asterothe,  
That great Arch Devil.  Io. 
Now mercy Heaven who hath seduced you thus?  Gen. 1. 
Come, come we know it,  
And this withal; in what men are most expect,  
In that they are most dainty, and so you;  
In Dancers and Musicians 'tis found true;  
Of all men, where they are most excellent,  
They are most curious to express their skill,  
So no question, you.  Gef. 
Remember Islington, my Host, my Hostess, and the Constable,  
Should we be silent, every Oyster-wife,  
Fishwife, and those cry Milk and Oranges  
Can speak of your rare supper; fie, Friar john,  
And so dainty to your friends?  Io. 
Either I must take upon myself, and by some trick evade it,  
Or else shame that which I have done before.  Lo. 
Nay gentle Friar.  Wo. 
For reverence of your Order.  Tre. 
As you would purchase us your lasting friends.  Gen. 1. 
Or make us at our deaths,  
Give Legacies unto your holy convent.  Gen. 2. 
Come, we know what you can do, good Friar.  Io. 
What, you make me a Conjurer?  Gef. 
A man of Art, no more; so much we know you are.  Io. 
Well, what's the business?  Lo. 
This Gentleman, you know him.  Io. 
My good Master.  Lo. 
His house is haunted by a wicked spirit  
Which we would have you by your Art remove.  Io. 
As how?  Lo. 
To lodge one night within the Chamber,  
And know of it the cause of its disturbance,  
Or what might be the will of the deceased,  
Which known, and being performed, the troubled Ghost  
Might rest in peace.  Io. 
Lodge where the foul fiend walks?  
A proper jest t'expose me to such danger,  
So I might come to justify the Proverb,  
Where had the Devil the Friar, but where he was;  
But I must face it out: Pray Gentlemen, which of you all  
Hath seen that Vision? in what shape walks it?  Chan. 
Like a woman sir, but with such horror  
And astonishment, I tremble once to speak't.  Io. 
And I to hear't.  
What a she Devil now? for all the World  
I would not once affront her; bring me hither  
Ten thousand male Fiends, I could charm their tongues  
Before one Female fury.  Chan. 
Sure this Friar is wittily conceited?  Io. 
Had it been great Belioth, Asteroth, or Belzebub,  
I durst affront them, and confront them too,  
Oh but the devil's Dam; why against her  
There is no Prayer, no Spell, no exorcism;  
No Circle that can hold her: But appeared she  
Wrinkled in Brow or fair and beautiful?  Chan. 
As lovely to the view as flourishing May,  
Clad in the pride of Spring.  Io. 
So much the worse,  
Well wot you that our Order is by Oath  
Confined from any meeting with that Sex,  
Especially at Midnight; and so late;  
Scarce in the daytime durst I meet a face  
Of such Temptation, but in dead of rest  
'Twould scandalize my Order.  Chan. 
Press him not, if he be so precise.  Io. 
heaven's Benison and mine light on you till I meet you next;  
But to lie there where a she Devil haunts,  
(Less with my Hosts by at Islington)  
May the Grand Devil fetch me, bless you all. Exit.  Chan. 
Tush, Scholars still are Cowards, let him pass,  
Daughter, you still are mine?  An. 
Else not my own.  Chan. 
Enough; will any of you Gentlemen,  
In that my last: night's lodging second me?  Lo. 
'Tis too full of terror; Geoffrey wilt thou?  Gef. 
Offer myself to the Devil before my time?  
You might accuse my folly.  Chan. 
Or any here?  Gen. 1. 
Not I.  Gen. 2. 
Nor I.  Chan. 
It shall be then my care to find out one  
To conjure down this spirit, and doubt it not.  Lo. 
So much for that: But Mistress, what from me,  
Except you to express my gratitude  
For this so late a favour?  An. 
Only this; t'avoid all imputation fame may cast  
Upon my honour touching Slightall's fall,  
In which the World may think I had chief hand:  
'Tis but to find him out, and on his poverty  
Bestow some small relief.  Lo. 
Now as I live, I'll do't with a full and  
Plenteous hand if that be all.  Tre. 
I'll aid him in the search to make  
That sweet conclusion.  Ch. 
In the mean time 't shall be my providence  
To have my house unhaunted; come my Lord,  
Lead you the way, my wife and I will follow.  
Remember Nan. Exeunt.   

Act. 4. Scaen. 3.  Enter Roger. Rog. 
Want whilst I have, or hear my pockets chide?  
While his are silent? there's no justice in't:  
And if he do while my exchequer lasts,  
May I be held a Proverb made to cast  
In every false Grooms teeth?  Vsu. 
Is this the day?  Scri. 
It is.  Vsu. 
Art sure?  Scri. 
Upon my—  Usu. 
What? thy faith?  Scri. 
Upon my Ears 'tis true.  Usu. 
I will not trust to hearsay, let thine eyes  
Proclaim what's written in this Almanac,  
If this be the set Day.  Scri. 
Quindecem Michaelis, certainly the same.  Usu. 
If't be not tendered then twixt Sun and Sun,  
The Mortgage is my own.  Scri. 
If you have the conscience to take the forfeit.  Use. 
Conscience? what in that is wanting he shall find  
Made good in Law.  Enter Slightall Gallant, and his Page with Moneybags. Sl. 
I see the Devil yet is good to some,  
Though it repents me of the Bargain sealed,  
Yet am I glad and proud of my supply;  
Which the more precious is, being infinite,  
Not capable of end; for Mammon's treasure,  
A prodigal hand may waste, but ne'er consume.  Rog. 
What sudden change is this? do my eyes mock me,  
Or must I call him Master?  Sl. 
Roger? a hand; I know thou art in want, as one some  
Weeks that hath been out of service, take that gold  
And spend it freely, when thou want'st here's more.  Rog. 
And you are both in cash and sense likewise?  Sl. 
Why man, 'tis want of money makes men mad,  
For that disease here's Physic: honest Hodge,  
Go thou and summon all my Creditors,  
Leave not a man to whom I owe, uncalled,  
And pay them to the utmost they demand;  
Be so far from bating of the Principal,  
As pay them all arrearages; 'tis our will  
And do thou see't performed.  Rog. 
From whence came this sir?  Sl. 
What's that to thee? have we not here to do't?  
Those Debts that reckoned were mere desperate  
First see discharged, unless some certain Mortgage tied to a day.  Usu. 
What screech-owl's voice was that?  Sl. 
Monsieur Damnation? what, are you so near?  
I know you sir, a Thousand pounds and th'use,  
Tender the sum, there's gold, and bring me back  
The Mortgage of my Manor.  Usu. 
I'm undone then: no haste good  
Master Slightall, why tomorrw,  
Or the next day will serve, some fortnight hence,  
Nay, were't a month, I could forbear the money.  Sl. 
Quindecem Michaelis, you remember that,  
I prithee see this man first satisfied,  
And do't without delay: if he deny  
The tender of't I'll have it done in Court;  
With such we must not dally, quick, good Hodge:  
That once dispatched, affairs of greater consequence  
Attend thy trust and care.  Rog. 
Come, will you walk sir?  Usu. 
If needs I will, we Usurers are like women  
Who conceive with great pleasure, and are delivered  
With great pain; so we get our wealth with infinite joy,  
And part with the least of it with infinite torment.  Sl. 
To any man that can but show my hand,  
Or witness where I have but passed my word,  
Pay ready down, about it, and return.  Rog. 
And have we lived to see the golden age once more?  
Now Geoffrey, if I meet you I dare affront you boldly.  Exeunt. Manet Slightall. Sl. 
How want dejects, and plenty cherishes?  
What a new change perceive I in myself?  
Yet not so much in habit as in heart!  
The sight of gold hath shaken off all those dumps,  
Whose Leaden weights were hung upon my soul,  
To keep it down from mounting; and I now  
Find in myself a free and dexterous spirit,  
Uncapable of cloudy Melancholy. Ent. Lo. Treatwell, & Geoffrey.  Lo. 
I must, as did my Mistress late enjoin,  
Pass in the search of this sad Gentleman, and to  
His low dejected poverty cast some few pieces.  Tre. 
If his pockets lining suit but to the outside  
Of his Clothes, he hath small need of them.  Gef. 
What, grown so brave? he hath sure lighted on some cheat?  Lo. 
'Twas her injunction, and doubtless  
I'll accost him; save you sir.  Sl. 
I would be so, but 'tis not you can do't.  Lo. 
I understood that you were late in want?  Sl. 
Not of a Wife; but for your Lord ships courtesy  
I had had one too many, thank you for it.  Lo. 
I came to seek you.  Sl. 
For another? no,  
Now much good do't you with the thing you have,  
I have no more to part with.  Lo. 
Leaving that; I understand you are a Gentleman  
Nobly derived; but withal, y'are poor.  Sl. 
You will not sell your Lordship?  Lo. 
Who should buy't?  Sl. 
Why he that asks the question, ay, my Lord;  
If you will walk by Land I'm your first man,  
I'll bid as fair as any.  Lo. 
He's mad still, leave him.  Gef. 
A Bankrupt idle fellow brave your Lordship?  
Beat him to's wits, or let me kick him for you.  Sl. 
Ha, what's that? who, Geoffrey Codpiece, john Boe Peep,  
Is't you that prate so freely? my young judas,  
Have you conspired against me?  Gef. 
Endure this?  Lo. 
Stay, first we will debate in friendly terms,  
Before you grow to outrage.  Sl. 
Done most Lordly; your tongue will grace you  
Better than your Sword, 'tis the most Noble fashion.  Lo. 
I'll be brief, I understood your state was much  
Decayed, which in my honour I commiserating,  
My purpose was in some sort to relieve you;  
And would you better understand yourself,  
It might appear a noble courtesy.  
Because it came so free and uncompelled  Sl. 
Such as one Neighbour to another doth  
To get his wife with Child, a courtesy, and so it fitly may  
Be called because it brings him to his Knees.  Tre. 
Still, still misprision; might I advise you, proffer  
What you purpose, and if refused, so leave him.  Lo. 
Counselled well: there's twenty pieces for you.  Sl. 
For a wife? Her Ladyship is yours for nought already,  
And should I sell her twice?  Lo. 
This saucy fellow usurps upon our patience,  
Which we'll punish be our strong hand.  Sl. 
A punisher, my Lord? what beg the Beadle's Office?  Gef. 
Dash out's brains.  Sl. 
I doubt his Lord ships warrant is not currant, therefore I'll not obey.  As they strive to oppress him, Ent. Rog. They 2. beat of the other 3. Rog. 
Sir, all's dispatched, but by my faith I lie,  
Here's something here to do.  
Why God a mercy Master, I perceive  
Your spirits not all spent.  Sl. 
Thanks to thy Sword, or I had been oppressed else.  Rog. 
But how differed you? to be assailed by such a shameful odds.  Sl. 
They scoffed at my supposed poverty,  
And my great Lord forsooth, as I had begged,  
Would have bestowed his guerdon on my want,  
Which taking in foul scorn, the valiant sir  
Assailed me at these base advantages:  
But hast thou done as I enjoined?  Rog. 
Most carefully; all's to the full dispatched.  Sl. 
If with the Devil I could dispense as well,  
I should have ease within.  Rog. 
Ha, sirrah Geoffrey, I  
Think you played at leap Frog?  Di. 
You are sad sir?  Enter the Devil, and claps Slightall on the shoulder. Sl. 
Do not demand thy debt before the day;  
Thy forfeit is not due yet.  Di. 
No such thing; the business that I come to treat with thee  
Is of another nature.  Rog. 
Sir, what's he?  Sl. 
too hot for thy acquaintance, do not ask,  
Attend me to my Chamber, whether anon, I will not fail to come.  Rog. 
Too hot, and why? he may be honest, but he hath the  
Countenance of an old subtle knave; well, I'll attend you. Ex.  Sl. 
Now what to me?  Di. 
Have I not kept my word?  Sl. 
Thou hast.  Di. 
Stored thee with all the supplements  
Man's use can ask.  Sl. 
It cannot be denied.  Di. 
Nay, was not I assistant in this quarrel, prompting thy  
Man to come to thy release, just at the instant danger:  Sl. 
His approach was fortunate and happy.  Di. 
Then speak freely,  
Didst ever in thy life time meet a friend,  
Whose word, assured trust, and constancy  
Could rank with mine in all things?  Sl. 
Never any; but what may this infer?  Di. 
Proof of thy gratitude, or to be termed unthankful.  Sl. 
Speak wherein.  Di. 
Wilt thou in mere  
Requital of so many, do to me one fair Office?  Sl. 
First propose it, and then expect an answer.  Di. 
There's a house haunted with a she spirit, one of my  
Servants, and Kitchen maids in Hell, employed by me  
For some known causes, who hath played such pranks there  
No man's so bold dares lodge within the room,  
This bed would I have thee to undertake.  Sl. 
To send me to Hell before my day? your plot is too apparent.  Di. 
Still amiss; have not I power o'er all my creatures there  
To limit and command them? art not thou  
One of our house by Indenture? though to them  
She appeared ghastly, horrid, and deformed,  
To thee she shall seem fair and beautiful,  
No whit inferior to that Grecian Queen,  
That launched 1000. Ships from Aulis Gulf,  
And brought them to the fatal siege of Troy.  Sl. 
Make but this good, I'll do't.  Di. 
And so confirm thee  
A Minion to the mighty Belzebub,  
And great in our black Kingdom. Exeunt.    

Actus Quintus,  

Scene. 1.  Enter Lord, Changable's Wife, and Geoffrey. Wi. 
BUt was he so perverse and peremptory?  Lo. 
He braved necessity, and outfaced want,  
And took my proffered largesse in such scorn,  
As he had been some great king's Treasurer;  
My bounty he defied with shaking pockets,  
The noise whereof deafened and seemed to drown  
The sound of my despised Charity;  
Some pieces I would willingly have given.  Wi. 
Which would he not receive?  Lo. 
Merely refused,  
And with a haughty and contemplative smile,  
Instead of grateful thanks, proudly demanded if I would  
Sell my Lordship.  Wi. 
Did you suffer it?  Lo. 
While I could limit patience I forbore,  
To chastise him with an ungentle hand;  
But when I found no bounds in his distaste,  
But that it still exceeded Law and compass,  
I thought to chastise his ingratitude;  
And did it with my Sword.  Wi. 
'Twas bravely done.  Gef. 
I think we made him fly, for I am sure some there  
Gave shameful ground.  Wi. 
But leaving that,  
How doth my Daughter relish you of late?  
Do you not find her coming?  Lo. 
affable, as any courteous maid alive can be,  
To whom I did discover these proceedings,  
Which she seemed well to relish.  Wi. 
Doubt not then, all will be to our wishes;  
One thing only, which sads me when I think of't.  Lo. 
Pray what's that?  Wi. 
To think my house should be so strangely troubled  
In dead of Night.  Lo. 
It is prodigious sure.  Wi. 
And that I fear it is my Mother's Spirit,  
Who for some unknown causes restless walks,  
As one not sleeping in her quiet grave;  
'Tis this that moves me deeply.  Lo. 
I have sent  
To one Friar Bernand, a Religious man,  
And Tutor to Friar john, to learn from him the depth of  
This concealment; and see, in happy time  
Treatwell's returned Ent Treatwell.  Tre. 
Sir, I had conference with him.  Lo. 
Will he do't?  Tre. 
By no entreaty or persuasive skill,  
Nay were he pressed by menace or command,  
He vows to have no hand in these designs;  
I could not make him think such things can be;  
He counts them mere impostures, fallacies,  
Or, let a man receive them at the best,  
Illusions of the Devil; that Ghosts walk  
He saith directly 'tis impossible,  
And in that faith he'll die; further discourse  
I could by no means get him listen to, but half displeased he left me.  Wi. 
That's his faith, but we are forced to credit  
Otherwise by lamentable proof. Ent. M. Changeable.  Gef. 
Here comes your husband, he hath perhaps some news  Chan. 
I have been labouring, toiling and moiling,  
To find the cause of this so strange distemperature,  
Questioned Divines, and talked with cunning men,  
With Fortune-tellers, skilled in Palmistry,  
Not a tained Gipsy can escape my search, but I with such  
Have Traffic.  Wi. 
And what comfort?  Chan. 
Troth small, or none yet, most in this conclude,  
That pretend judgement; that till we find some one  
To lodge without companion in that Bed,  
And in the dead of darkness question it,  
Why, to what end, and for what cause it walks,  
The Vision shall continue: this they said,  
But none amongst them all so resolute as to  
Attempt th'adventure.  Lo. 
Then 'tis desperate?  Chan. 
Not so; for coming from the friary late,  
I met a man by chance that crossed my way,  
Whom rather too much spirit had possessed,  
Or too much folly made mere desperate;  
Would willingly attempt it, and indeed  
He did entreat it of me as a Suit.  Lo. 
What reason moved him to't?  Chan. 
Because he's mad:  
For who of understanding, or of sense,  
Would willingly confront great Belzebub,  
Perhaps despair, distraction, discontent  
Or fury hath possessed him; be't what will,  
what's that to us? his is the certain danger,  
Ours the assured gain.  Lo. 
What might he be?  Chan. 
One like enough, were Hercules alive,  
With him in Theseus' stead to enter Hell;  
A mad companion whom you all well know,  
One that was once a Suitor to my Daughter.  Wi. 
Not Slightall?  Ch. 
He.  Lo. 
My Rival?  Ch. 
Even the same.  Wi. 
Of all men living I am loath that he should lodge  
Beneath my Roof; were there none such he'd play the  
Devil himself.  Chan. 
But we have those  
Within, can tame him were he twice so wild.  Lo. 
But he to be received? of all men living  
I do not love that fellow.  Chan. 
See your error,  
What better way, more secret, and more safe  
Can we devise to be revenged, than this?  
To have him piecemeal torn by Hags and Fiends;  
He hath no prayer to arm him 'gainst their assault,  
His Oaths will be assistant to their fury,  
And further not repel it: You by this  
Are from a Rival freed; my daughter Nan,  
From an importunate Suitor, Beggar too;  
We all from a disturber, and a man  
That wronged our common quiet.  Gef. 
He says true sir,  
Let all your anger then conclude in this,  
And bid the Devil take him.  Wife. 
A good riddance.  Tre. 
I know not how you could dispose him better  
And empty all your wishes.  Lo. 
Well, I am pleased,  
Employ your best discretions.  Chan. 
But where's Nan?  Wo. 
Sick in her Chamber, where she keeps her Bed,  
And dares not thence remove.  Chan. 
The worse for her,  
Yet for our purpose better, as it haps,  
Because she shall not see him, nor he her;  
Hark, there's one knocks, 'tis Slightall on my life;  
Disperse I do entreat, I'll answer him. Within.  Sl. 
Where's this Three-headed Dog that keeps Hell gates?  
He knocks that fain would enter.  Ch. 
'Tis the same,  
I know him by his roaring. Enter Slightall.  Sl. 
If this, as many men give out, be Hell,  
Show me the Master? he that keeps the house:  
Pluto that great grim sir.  Chan. 
I am the Lord  
Of this poor Manor; now, I cannot tell  
By what hard Fate distressed.  Sl. 
Oh, you keep lodgings,  
And as I understand, the Devil here hath late took up his Inn.  Chan. 
My greater grief sir.  Sl. 
I would for one night be his Chamber-fellow,  
Shall I have entertainment, good mine Host?  Chan. 
I would not wish you sir.  Sl. 
Wish me no wishes,  
I am the Knight adventurer that would do't:  
One thing resolve me; hath the Devil your Guest  
A Horse in the Stable?  Chan, 
None sir, I assure you.  Sl. 
Then make him pay for's Bed; it is the custom  
Of every Inn through England.  Chan. 
Sir, I know you,  
And ever wished you to your hearts desire,  
How well you may remember; if forgot,  
In you 'tis error, and no fault in me.  Sl. 
Which love I thus have studied to requite,  
To conjure hence your Devil; how appears it?  
In Feminine shape?  Chan. 
Yes, like a woman's sure.  Sl. 
But not like Madam Proserpine your wife?  
No shape else can affright me.  Chan. 
I must confess  
A Devil of her tongue, but no way else sir.  Sl. 
Show me my Chamber.  Ch. 
This.  Sl. 
My lodging.  Ch. 
There  Sl. 
Command me two fair Tapers, that may last  
And burn out this night's hell.  Chan. 
Instantly.  Sl 
Those, my good sword, this Book, and my bold heart  
Are Guards sufficient 'gainst a thousand shadows  
Of no Corporeal essence capable.  Chan. 
Here be your Lights.  Sl. 
Some wine too, I entreat,  
'Tis the best armour to a fainting soul,  
And then no further trouble.  Chan. 
It shall be done.  Sl. 
Whom am I to encounter? singly too?  
Without a second? spirits, or Phantasms?  
Ghosts being, or imaginary dreams?  
Not in the comfortable day, and view  
Of judging eyes, but in the solitude  
Of melancholy darkness? I'll not think of't, before  
I find the truth, or mockery. Ent. with Wine, Chan.  Chan. 
I have brought your Livery.  Sl. 
Indeed I must thank you for't? indeed I am your man; now, if you please,  
Leave me to my adventure.  Chan. 
Rest may your Body,  
And peace possess your thoughts.  Sl. 
whate'er betide me.  
Good night to you: see the doors locked and bolted,  
That's all I shall enjoin you; till we meet  
A fair and prosperous Morning: did I know  
What object I should meet with, I could then  
Fit me unto the plunge accordingly,  
And arm me for the Grapple; but of this  
I nothing can conjecture: oh but that Parchment  
By which I am obliged to pay a soul,  
The memory of that is horrible,  
And strikes me with affright: what can I guess,  
But that this is my devil's Stratagem,  
To have his Sergeant death arrest me here;  
And bear me to that cursed Dungeon, Hell?  
An Usurer would do't; any fat Sergeant  
That looks as plump in cheeks as th'other lean;  
Then why not these? their gain's but petty trash,  
But these the precious riches of a soul;  
Yet in these Hellhounds have I greater trust  
Than in those Dogs of th'Earth, for I am sure  
The Devil himself can be no Usurer,  
He is so free of his purse; and hitherto  
Hath lent his money gratis: I'll to Bed,  
And yet I will not; I'm no whit dismayed,  
Nor yet at peace within; disquieted  
With sudden fears, nor yet well reconciled:  
I'll try if I can sleep; and yet not so,  
Lest I be taken napping; yet I'll throw me  
Upon the Bed and read.  Ent. Devils dancing, with Fire wokes, and Crackers. 
hay, heigh, the devil's dance, sure Hell's broke loose?  
And this is their Shrove Tuesday; horns upon you,  
And that's the Cuckold's curse; yet this was sport,  
Though somewhat fearful: had they proffered violence,  
This should have thrashed among them, but it seems  
These were no quarrelling spirits; yet howsoe'er,  
I am glad they are gone: what object shall be next?  
Music? yet this sounds sweeter than the first,  
For that was all of discords.  Ent. two Maids with Banquet and Lights; after courtesies to him, they fetch in Anne, and place her at the Table against him. 
What, in Hell are there white Devils, Angels are  
These of Light, or but light Angels? Banquet too?  
And Feast? the furies in the lower World  
I thought till now had fed on hot meats all;  
On parboiled Murderers, Usurers roasted flesh,  
Whores cheeks for dainties, Carbonadoed o'er  
Red sulphurous Gridirons, and a thousand such:  
But what's she enters now? to whom the rest  
Do such obeisance? place her in her State,  
As if she were the Queen grim Pluto stole,  
And great Alcides once redeemed from Hell?  
Be'st thou Ghost, shadow, fury, Fiend, or Hag,  
Introth thou art a fair one; In heaven's name  
What art thou? speak, dost answer me in smiles?  
Why dost thou beckon me? point to those shadows,  
As were the meats essential! had I a stomach,  
With thee I durst not eat: dost laugh at me?  
Oh hadst thou but a substance to that presence  
I'd dare on thee, wert thou th' infernal Dam.  
Temptation still? I'll think her what she seems,  
For no affright can lodge in her fair look,  
And venture somewhat near; she's left alone,  
And single; I will to her, what would you have me  
Sit there? I will; eat? but begin I'll do't:  
Fain would I take her by the hand, but fear  
Hers rather would melt mine, than melt in mine:  
Why should my sense of touching thus turn Coward?  
My eyes being so valiant, can you speak?  
Oh such a wife through all the world I'd wish,  
That would be ever Tongue-tied; reach your hand?  
I would and gladly too; 'sfoot I will venture,  
No danger, a white, soft, and delicate palm,  
That nigh dissolves in touching: you feel well,  
Sweet, can you kiss? most sweet and excellent;  
Again, again; were there no worse in Hell,  
And this the place, here would I wish to dwell.  
Nay you that can both touch and lip it too,  
Sure can do something else: be'st thou a Lamia,  
Or Incubus, thou canst not scape me so;  
I have a spirit in me great as thine:  
thouhast boarded it, I'll see if thou canst Bed,  
And try if thou hast mettle to thy shape;  
Dumb spirits cannot clamour out for help,  
I'll now try Masteries. Thundering and howling, Ent. Chan. like the Devil  Chan. 
Think upon thy Bond.  Sl. 
Ha? when is't due?  Di. 
Now.  Sl. 
Hellish Fiend thou liest;  
But ere thou claimest that debt, show me that beauty  
I am so much entranced with.  Di. 
'Tis vanished into Air, whence it was formed.  Sl. 
Great Belzebub, yet once more let me see't.  Di. 
Not possible, until you meet in Hell; so near  
Thy Fate, and cannot now the terror of that place  
Cool thy hot courage? see the forfeiture,  
And here I do arrest thee.  Sl. 
Angels bale me,  
Or I am ever lost.  Di. 
Canst thou deny thy deed?  Sl. 
That hand I cannot, yet be not Judge and  
Accuser too; I'll put my cause to censure.  Di. 
Who shall do't.  Sl. 
The next we meet.  Devil 
I am content, 'tis done; howe'er thy soul  
I'm confident is won. Exeunt.   

Act. 5. Scaen. 2.  Enter Usurer, and Scrivener. Usu. 
Oh, curse on that supply that snatched from me  
So rich a Mortgage.  Scri. 
You looked not in the Almanac  
For good and evil days.  Usu. 
Yes, but too late:  
For when 'twas past, I counselled with the day.  Scri. 
And pray what was the Motto.  Usu. 
Guess I pray thee.  Scri. 
Alas poor man, all to no purpose, be better advised,  
Or it may be, kept out of his clutches; these, if we may  
Believe th'Astronomer, are ominous days.  Usu 
Tush, none of these.  Scri. 
What then?  Vsu. 
Nihil in Bag.  Scri. 
Nihil in Bag? a scurvy critical Emblem,  
Presaging empty pockets, Why no Cutpurse  
Will trade when that's in power; then why would you  
Lend money in that unlucky hour?  Usu. 
It shall be a warning to me: in th'mean time  
Would it were razed out of the Calendar quite,  
It is a day prodigious. Enter Changeable and Slightall.  Di. 
If I can prove that all thy debts be paid  
Thou art my own, was't not, and speak thy conscience,  
Our joint condition?  Sl. 
I confess it was.  Di. 
That Usurer's one of thy main Creditors,  
But when thou wast so free to pay thy debts, thou ne'er  
Dreamest of thy forfeit; propose to him thy question.  Sl 
And I will, I bid thee that thy money  
ne'er shall do, save thee.  Vsu. 
Beshrew you sir, you made me start,  
What is your will with me?  Sl. 
I speak to thee  
As to the Drawer at the vintner's Bar:  
What is all paid?  Vsu. 
And like the Bar-boy I  
When you bring ready money, and keep touch  
All's paid sir, and y'are welcome.  Di. 
'Tis confessed.  Scri. 
What's he that looks so ghastly?  Sl. 
'Tis the Devil.  Scri. 
My Pen and Inkhorn bless me.  Vsu. 
All those crosses that I have figured on the  
Princes Coin, stand still betwixt me and danger,  Exeunt Vsu. and Scri. Di. 
These are discharged, what refuge hast thou now?  
Nay bring me unto all thy Creditors;  
I'll prove thy debts discharged.  Sl. 
I pray how many  
Of our best London Gallants that hope Heaven,  
Can say the like? merit I Hell for that?  Di. 
But I must have my bargain.  Sl. 
Two words to't.  Enter two Gentlemen. Di. 
Hast thou not owed to these?  Sl. 
Most true, I have.  Di. 
Resolve me friends, as you are Gentlemen,  
In what known sums did this man stand engaged to  
Each of you?  Gen. 1. 
I know not why you ask sir,  
But the time was he aught me some few pieces,  
I thought them desperate once, but nobly, since  
He to the full hath seen me satisfied.  Gen. 2. 
I never met with a more generous debtor,  
I only trusted him with some few sums,  
And he hath paid me use and principal,  
A thing I ne'er expected.  Di. 
That's all Gentlemen— morrow  Gen. 1. 
The like to you; I wonder what the Devil  
Slightall ails, he looks so strangely on us?  Gen. 2. 
Sparks no doubt, of his first madness. Exeunt.  Di. 
Do but name the man, to whom thou canst appeal.  Sl. 
I must confess I'm gone by th'common Law,  
The Chancery too, because of thee, my conscience,  
If to any, I appeal to the Church.  Di. 
And to whom there?  Sl. 
To any reverent Father. Ent. friar. Ber. and friar john.  Di. 
Then to these, to both, or either, freely take thy choice.  Sl. 
Holy friar Bernard then, my parting breath  
Could not desire a better confessor.  Di. 
read there, and tell me what thou think'st of that.  Ber. 
Give me but leave to take my second eyes,  
I will resolve you presently.  Di. 
In th'interim, what's the best news in the parish?  Sl. 
Where I live?  Di. 
Yes.  Sl. 
I'll tell thee all I know,  
We are better to the Suburbs than they planted  
Within the City; thereon holy days  
The tavern doors are ever shut till six,  
Else is the Vintner fined; but there where we  
Keep rendezvous may be let in at three, and never stir  
The Informers.  Ber. 
Horrible; what tremor this begets?  Io. 
Is that the Devil?  Ber. 
So this Indenture speaks.  Io. 
Ten thousand Creeds, as many Paternosters,  
Ave Maries stand between me and harm.  Ber. 
In these conditions, I like a cunning Lawyer find a  
Clause to cheat the Devil, and to save a soul;  
Be'st thou the greatest fell with Lucifer,  
Nay he himself, I now am armed for thee: what claimest  
Thou of this man?  Di. 
I claim a soul.  Ber. 
Which is not forfeit.  Di. 
Show me reasons why.  Ber. 
By help of Heaven I shall: this deed thus runs;  
When all his Creditors are satisfied,  
His Bonds discharged and canceled, debts full paid,  
His Mortgages called in, his words redeemed,  
This Bond is then in virtue; not till then.  Di. 
All this I grant, and call to witness none  
Save his own Conscience; art thou not at freedom,  
And clear from all the world?  Sl. 
Most true, I am,  
Nor can I name that party under Heaven  
To whom I owe one farthing; a brass token  
Will cancel all my scores.  Io. 
'Tis a plain case.  Ber. 
Yes, but against the Devil.  Di. 
Speak, how that?  Ber. 
What were the sums for which he stood engaged?  Di. 
Some fifteen thousand pounds, which I have paid,  
And now the man owes nothing; therefore duly I  
Claim both soul and body.  Ber. 
Both are quit,  
As thou thyself shalt to thy grief confess;  
For I will prove him more indebted now  
Than e'er he was before.  Di. 
To whom?  Ber. 
To thee,  
Whom till he have discharged the utmost penny,  
The Bond's of no effect.  Di. 
And am I tripped?  Io. 
The Devil hath bragged he hath caught many a Friar,  
Now one hath caught the Devil.  Sl. 
Am I clear then?  Io. 
Yes, till thou payest him all his money down,  
Which when thou dost thouart worthy to be damned.  Sl. 
Insert but that condition 'mongst the rest,  
And I'll again subscribe; Gramercy Friar.  Di. 
Nay then I see vainly we Devils stand against the  
Church, they have still the upper hand,  
I yield me vanquished; in the mean time friar read  
And conceal. Gives him another paper to read.  Sl. 
What, by a quid d it freed? by a quirk in the Law? by  
This I see the devil's no good Lawyer: give me my deed,  
That I may see it canceled and undone:  
I'll tear it small as atoms, that no memory  
Of the least Letter be reserved as witness  
Against my soul when I shall resurvive;  
Nor shall I be at patience till I see  
This Parchment ashes, and this horrid Writ  
Dissolved to smoke and air.  Di. 
Yet for my love,  
For all the good thou hast received by me,  
For all my cost and charges, large expense,  
As I acquit thee truly, so thou freely  
Lend me thine ear.  Sl. 
Thy bounty hath deserved it;  
To save a soul I know no Scrivener here  
That would not only lend but give an ear.  Ber. 
I am informed to th'full; if this be true,  
Devil, th' art honest, and shalt have thy due:  
Associate me Friar john.  Io. 
With all my heart,  
If this be Asteroth I so late invoked, I never shall desire  
His company, but on an empty stomach. Ex. Friars.  Sl. 
And shall I meet her there?  Di. 
Presume thou shalt.  Sl. 
The self same spirit?  Di. 
And enjoy her to:  
Do thou but hazard as thou didst before  
And doubt not, she's thine own.  Sl. 
Substantially?  Di. 
As a contracted Bride and Bedfellow.  Sl. 
No difference in her shape and ornament?  Di. 
None.  Sl. 
Thou canst do much with me, nor do I  
Know beyond what bounds thy credence to extend: thou  
May'st prove false, but thouhast been yet my friend. Exeunt all.   

Act. 5. Scaen. 3.  Enter Anne in Bed, Mistress Changeable, Lord Skales, Treatwell and Geoffrey. Lo. 
Run for the Doctor Geoffrey.  An. 
Let him stay,  
Death's Image cannot show so ghastly to me  
As would the shape of Doctor, I'll have none.  Wi. 
Nay sweet Nan be persuaded.  An. 
If he come  
Good faith I'll live no longer.  Lo. 
Sooth her up,  
Or she will grow to frenzy.  Wi. 
How doth my sweet heart?  An. 
Sick, oh sick at heart, and you keep such a buzzing  
In my ears, that I can take no rest;  
Would you would leave me.  Wi. 
See here's my Lord.  An. 
From whom, if't  
Be his will, the Lord deliver me.  Tre. 
The maid talks idly.  Wi. 
What would my honey have?  An. 
Your absence,  
Mother, and yours, and all of you; I am but dead  
Unless you give me rest; oh sick, sick, sick,  
Your tongues like untuned Bells, sound in my ears,  
Nothing but Grave and Church-yard.  Wi. 
Whom wilt have  
To watch with thee all night?  An. 
None but my Father,  
All tongues are noise and discords saving his;  
But his like charming Music, quietly  
Summons my eyes to rest; and could I sleep once  
I hope I should be better, oh.  Lo. 
'Tis best to humour her.  An. 
I shall disclaim all friendship with that tongue  
That speaks another syllable; this prating  
It strikes quite through my head, and makes it beat  
As it would fall in pieces.  Wi. 
Silence all.  An. 
Mother, you talk of silence, and yet speak; how can that be?  Wi. 
Mum.  An. 
if you were sick at heart as I, you'd  
Say mum were a word, Mum sounds to me, being sick,  
Loud as a Cannon; why so? I thank you all, indeed you  
Do me now a wondrous kindness; I pray, pray for me, I  
shall be well at midnight, well at heart;  
And at head too I hope: and Mother, nay reply not,  
I'm like the man that could endure no noise  
Inth' silent woman, answer all in signs;  
Mother I hope ere morning I shall find  
Some more hearts ease; remember when you see't,  
I told you of't before hand: I would sleep:  
Hand in my bed, I'll turn to the wall, and try if I can  
Sleep, so good night all. The Bed pulled in  Wi. 
So, softly as you can; some little rest  
Will bring her to her temper, for this night  
We will commit her to her Father's charge, since she so  
Much desires it.  Lo. 
Any thing to give her least content.  Enter old Changeable and Roger. Chan. 
Thou know'st my mind, what thou hast undertook  
Manage with good discretion.  Rog. 
'Tis as safe  
Here in my breast as under bolts and locks,  
The cunningest picklock tongue that ever spoke  
Shall turn these springs to ope them; farewell sir.  Chan. 
Farewell good Roger, but no word to 'your Master  
Of what I have revealed thee kept from him.  Rog. 
As I would do a kindness, lay't in me,  
From my old fellow Geoffrey. Exit.  Chan. 
Now my Lord; I am still labouring for the general  
Good, to have my house at peace, and you content;  
But Wife, how is't with Nan?  Wi. 
Sir, wondrous ill,  
She will endure no counsel, physic, language,  
All tongues are clamour to her, saving yours,  
Harsh as a black Sant, or a grating Wheel;  
And I much fear without some providence, she scarce  
Will live till morning.  Chan. 
'Las poor Girl.  Lo. 
But she entreats in midst of all extremes  
That you would take the pains to watch with her,  
No other she'll endure.  Chan. 
And sir, I'll do't,  
No other tongue this night shall trouble her, nor presence  
Save my own; shall I entreat your Lordship, you good  
Wife, and those you think best to associate you,  
To stand in sight of all such Apparitions  
As shall in this room be made visible?  
My life shall for your safety be engaged, in it can be no  
Danger.  Lo. 
What assurance can you produce for that?  Chan. 
The word and faith of some approved religious,  
Who have promised, at my great intercession, that this  
Night shall be the last of all my progidies  
That thus afflict my house.  Tre. 
I am but one and I myself will venture.  Gef. 
Faith  
And I.  Chan. 
I do not think wife but there will be visions  
Worthy both sight and observation to;  
What will you say if Slightall be this night  
Contract to a she fury? but no words,  
I'll not tell you all I know; he's passed his sense  
And apt for any stratagem of Hell: I am promised  
Much fair hope; will you ascend and guide my Lord to a  
Convenient place, where you may view this object?  Wi. 
In th'mean time, how will you dispose yourself?  Chan. 
To watch with Nan,  
And in her great despair to comfort her;  
Nought but the dangerous sickness of my Girl  
Could keep me from you, but the hour draws on,  
Which Ghosts ever are tied to.  Wi. 
Maugre spirits, I'll  
Once take spirit into me.  Lo. 
A woman lead? They ascend.  
'Twere baseness not to follow.  Chan. 
My girl's my  
Charge, she hath been ever so, and therefore ought  
This night; and since one Devil some  
Few days since began to haunt my house  
She ne'er had peace of thought, health, nor content,  
Or least essential comfort; which to compass,  
All Art, wit, learning, this night I'll implore  
To drive him hence, shall haunt my house no more. Exit.  
Thunder. Enter above Lord, Wife, Treatwell, and Geoffrey.  Lord. 
The alarum's given;  
For at that watch word still the ruffling noise begins.  Gef. 
Would I were hence.  Lor. 
Now sweeter Music strikes.  Wif. 
There's no affright in this.  Enter Friars, Bernard and john at several doors, as hallowing the Room. Gef. 
My lord these Friars I know.  Lo. 
But whether  
They, or but their shadows by Art Magic raised we  
Cannot yet presume.  Wi. 
But this I'm sure.  
They are exceeding like.  friar Bernard fetches in at his door Slightall, and Roger, friar Io. at his, Anne and the Devil. Lo. 
That can be none but Slightall.  Gef. 
My Lord see, my  
Fellow Roger's damned, for he's got in  
Among the Fiends and Furies.  Wi. 
Were I not certain my daughter Nan were desperately  
Sick, and kept both Bed and Chamber, I durst swear  
That were my Girl.  Gef. 
Is she not dead tonight, and  
Now her Ghost there walks?  Lo. 
What might we  
Think of't? the Friars prepare for Marriage; but what, he  
Stands for the Father, whom they beckon to, to give  
Her hand to Slightall.  Gef. 
Now I have't;  
Upon my life the Devil can be no better; she the illusive  
Spirit by whom this room was haunted, contracted  
Now unto yond desperate Ruffian.  Lo. 
But this troubles me, the Fury should assume no other  
Shape but her fair Angel beauty.  Wi. 
Even for that, great reason too, would I could understand it.  Wi. 
Because he was enamoured first on her,  
The more to tempt him, she assumed that shape,  
Whom else could she so fitly personate?  
Nay go together, you have my consent,  
I'll ne'er forbid the Banes.  Lo. 
Much joy unto you, good troth nor I.  Wi. 
The Devil give you good of't.  Chan. 
And so the  
Devil doth, for your kind consent my Lord I thank you,  
And gentle wife for yours.  An. 
And, next my Father,  
I hold it my fit duty, thanks to both.  Wi. 
Let me leap down the next way, for the contract  
I vow to break.  Rog. 
But Mistress, that's the next way  
To break your neck, and keep the contract firm;  
The Staircase will do better.  Lo. 
Thus o'er reached?  Wi. 
Fooled and deluded? give me way my Lord,  
For I will down among them.  Rog. 
Hie to shelter, for there's a storm coming.  Sl. 
That you are man, this woman, I am rapt  
And ecstasied in brain, but cannot yet  
Unwrap my senses from this wondrous maze;  
This sudden light of knowledge so much dazzles,  
That in my judgement I am blinded quite,  
And know not how to free me.  Chan. 
That anon, my Daughter making known your  
Deep despair, your help I studied both of purse and brain,  
And fearing a lost soul, I then turned Devil,  
To prove your better Angel; talk with her,  
For I must arm for thunder.  Enter Lord, Wife, Treatwell, and Geoffrey. Wi. 
Was this a marriage in the devil's name?  Chan. 
Yes, and his Dam in presence; she looked on.  Wi. 
That your she Lamia?  Chan. 
Yes, my sweet wench Nan.  Wi. 
Were you sick with a vengeance?  An. 
But I told you I should be well by Midnight;  
So good Mother I feel myself I am well, never better  Ch. 
Shall I be plain, my Lord? I crave your pardon,  
Wife, for your rage I am armed, yes,  
If thou couldst encounter with  
flesh-hooks, and with Firebrands; for I tell thee  
I am practised in the Devil: but to you, my Lord,  
I passed my faith unto this Gentleman,  
Had it been done to you I ne'er had broke it.  Lo. 
Sir you speak nobly;  
What must be, must be: it is in the will of Heaven,  
And I am well pleased with it.  Wi. 
And am I overreached? well Slightall,  
My blessing on thee, she's thine.  Sl. 
Mother, my Knee in duty bows thus low:  
My Lord, your hand, I hope no  
Malice harbours in your heart.  Lo. 
I hope you'll not imagine't.  Sl. 
Sir I do not; and all I hope are pleased.  All. 
we are.  Sl. 
If these be so, we then are happy,  
We are new wedded, you are our chief Guest,  
Though once my Rival, now you are my friend:  
My fortune thus all malice hath defeated,  
And by a new trick the Grand Devil cheated.  Exeunt Omnes.   
FINIS.